Pleasure My Angel Encore Performance
by Zafona
Summary: Sequel to Pleasure My Angel. Prologue: Castiel vanishes after 3 years of being with Dean and has been missing for months. Despite how much Dean searches he can't find him even after months of looking, where is Castiel?
1. Chapter 1

Months had passed since Dean hit the road, with no real clue where to start. He wasn't even in Kansas anymore, having exhausted almost every possible locale he could think of. Sitting restlessly in a side booth of a karaoke bar, he downed the bitter drink in his hands. Grimacing at the taste, he raised an arm to wipe the excess on his sleeve. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion and sleep had eluded him for days. Every possible karaoke bar, every night club, and any place that might have a jukebox, Dean looked, but couldn't find. None of the patrons or workers remembered seeing him, and if he had been there, Dean was certain that _someone_ would remember him.

His phone rang. The loud sound made him jump, and he quickly moved to answer. "Have you found him?" his modified greeting since starting to search.

"No man, I haven't found a damn thing," came Gabriel's reply over the other line. "I found less than a trace."

Dean sighed heavily, remorse heavy in his chest, "Then why did you call?"

"Did you not hear me? Less than a trace. He didn't just leave you, he vanished. Poof: gone." Gabriel seemed to think he had a helpful point, but Dean wasn't following the news. Dean clung to the wrong words, that Cass had left him, the horrible realization that he was now without his lovely singing angel. The worst of it was Dean didn't know why.

One day everything was fine –it was better than fine: it was perfect. Sam, Dean, and Cass living together under one roof in little old Lawrence. The next: Dean's world was shattered. He woke up one morning and Castiel wasn't in bed beside him. It wouldn't have been a big deal, it wasn't unusual for Dean to sleep passed noon, where Cass just couldn't sleep that long. But it was five a.m. Maybe Cass was sick, or getting a snack. Dean searched the house over, and found no one. He called to Cass, loudly and repeatedly. Sam had woken up, but there was still no sign of Cass, there wasn't even an indication that he had left the bed, as his covers hadn't even been tossed aside. He was simply gone.

"Don't you get it? He. Didn't. Leave. Maybe something took him, but with this immediate cold trail, it's more likely that aliens did it."

"He's an angel. Teleporting comes with the package Gabriel." Dean growled. "If you don't have anything helpful, then don't bother calling."

"You would've been able to tell if he teleported out of bed, and he wouldn't have teleported naked. I was just trying to help you. Don't push yourself so hard." Gabriel knew he wasn't making any progress, but Dean didn't seem to realize how many people he was worrying by doing this. He never checked in, and he'd been on the road for over a month, travelling from town to town with zero success and even less leads. As expected, Dean didn't listen, and soon the line went dead.

Gabriel sighed and dropped his phone back into his pocket. He walked over to the living room where his two house mates were sitting on the couch –snogging. "Ah, guys!" Gabriel protested, but didn't look away. "Anna, Balthazar –I just got off the phone with Dean."

Balthazar broke away from Anna's embrace, "And has he found Castiel?" Balthazar may well have been the second person willing to drop everything and take off in a fruitless search, right after Dean. Common sense and better resources prevailed, but that didn't make Castiel's absence any easier. Balthazar was the only other angel on earth, as far as he knew. He was the only other individual capable of the things Castiel was, and even he couldn't find the boy. Despite the promise he'd made, all of his abilities and best intentions, Castiel was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Naughta. Zip. He's found nothing, except maybe another beer. That guy's long fired by now, eh? Sam's gotta be pissed about the rent."

"And just _how_ exactly do you think Sam's mad about something as petty as rent?" Balthazar reeled and the incredulously stupid comment. "His brother is in a clinical state of depression and one of his close friends –and roommate- has disappeared off this face of this earth! And let me tell you, he's not on this planet, otherwise I would damn well have found him!" Balthazar was exasperated, and all the hours of hard work Anna had put in to calm him down were tossed out the window.

"Hey! I'm just trying to help!" Gabriel threw his hands up in the air –why was it everyone was mad at him when he relayed information? Twice in one day! "Alright, alright. I'm gone." Dropping his arms, he headed for the door, mumbling to himself, "A bunch of bull shit, that's what this is." He called back to Balthazar, "You know if Cass were still here we wouldn't be fighting like this!"

Tossing his jacket on before slamming the door behind him, Gabriel left the two to their business. "What a fucking piss off," he muttered aloud. "It's like none of us really wanted to put together, just to follow Cass. I miss that son of a bitch."


	2. Chapter 2

_Months Earlier..._

Castiel's breathing was light as his mind slowly floated back into consciousness, pulling itself up from a deep slumber and turning over the gears to put his body and mind into motion for the day. He inhaled deeply as he slowly became aware of his surroundings, taking in the scent of his lover next to him. Cass wrinkled his nose up as he noticed a particular difference; there was less of a sweet, strong scent and more of a heavy musk than he was used to. Cass made a mental note to remind Dean to take a shower.

He stretched a little, expecting to feel the weight of Dean's arm draped over him, like it always was; except today it wasn't. Castiel slowly lifted himself up, turning over slightly to see his partner's back, nicely defined by a grey t-shirt. He tilted his head slightly in confusion, distinctly remembering that they had gone to bed without clothing. Cass shrugged, writhing happily in his own nakedness, when he noticed another peculiar thing; the blankets and sheets were coarse and smelled kinda funny.

Cass slid over to Dean's back and wrapped his arms snugly around the other man's chiselled torso, pressing his cheek into the surprisingly firmer skin. _'He's different...'_ The thought came to him in waves as he had to strain further to reach around Dean's body, as if it were bigger than before. The differences hit him more as his hand drifted along the defined lines of Dean's abs, finding them easier and much larger than last night. Cass sat up right now, staring down at his partner curiously. Dean was bigger, looked stronger, smelled stronger; he even looked less peaceful while sleeping.

Castiel shifted his attention to the room now, feeling somewhat out of place. The walls looked shabby, the air smelled stale, everything was dingy and run down. They were in a motel. _'Where's our room?'_ He thought nervously, slipping out from under the covers. Cass scanned the room and realized he was without clothing as well. After spotting Dean's duffle bag, he scooted his bare bottom over and rummaged for a pair of pants, quickly pulling them on. Dean wouldn't mind, they'd been dating for over three years now.

From where he stood now, Castiel got a better feel of the room; two beds, one for Sam probably -considering the laptop in the corner- and the other for Dean and himself. There wasn't much for luggage or bags either... It bothered him that he couldn't remember when they'd left or why. Last night he and Dean celebrated _Pleasure My Angel's_ new popularity status reaching other countries, selling CD's worldwide and all that. When had they decided to leave? And why were they staying in such a shitty motel room?

His gaze drifted past Sam's laptop again, this time noticing several newspapers and bits of paper lying next to it. Cass trotted across the room, his bare feet padding lightly on the sketchy floor. He leaned over, figuring that Sam's research would tell him what was going on and why they weren't at home anymore. The first title he read was a little alarming; _'Another in a Series of Gruesome Murders'_, though the following all supported the first article. Not to mention Sam's laptop was open to a page highlighting the achievements of the most recent deceased.

Cass backed away from the table and turned away from it, trying to figure out what it meant, why Sam would be looking at something like that. Then he saw the rest of them; the wall he turned toward was covered in similar papers, printed images of people who had died, different strings connecting several articles from current and much older newspapers. "What the hell..." He felt anxiety rising as he backed toward the door.

The only exit swung open now, Sam walking in carrying a 'Dunkin Donuts' bag and cardboard tray with two coffees on it. "Oh," He looked genuinely surprised to see the angel standing there, more so to see him standing there in Dean's jeans. "Hi Cass, didn't know you were coming." He put the breakfast onto the same table as his laptop, "What's up?"

Castiel stared in nervous awe, "What do you mean you didn't know I was coming?"

"I mean I didn't think this case was gonna be something that required angelic assistance." Sam sipped at his coffee casually, as if nothing was amiss. "So why are you here, something big afoot?" He joked.

"What are you talking about? What case?" Cass was visibly perturbed, his face scrunched up in confusion. "I'm here because of Dean; why else would I be here?"

Sam looked up, surprised once again. Castiel was practically shouting at him, like a normal person. "Are you okay Cass?"

"No I'm not okay! You aren't making any sense at all! What day is it? Why are we in some shady motel?" Cass threw his arms down to his sides in frustration several times, throwing a small fit.

"Calm down, Cass." Sam had taken on his concerned voice now, slowly stepping closer to the disturbed angel, "It's Thursday, March 13th. What's gotten into you?"

Cass shook his head furiously, "If it's March 13th then how did we get here? Last night we all celebrated the band's growth and I went to sleep in my own bed! How did I get here?"

It was Sam's turn to scrunch his face in confusion, "Wait, what?"

Castiel's eyes watered in frustration and he hurried back to Dean's bed, the jeans he'd picked out had slid down his slender hips already; Dean was definitely much bigger than before. He slipped under the covers and pulled up close to his partner, the only thing that made sense to him in that moment.

The sudden intrusion of another body –cold from out-of-covers exposure, was a start to Dean's attempt at sleeping in. His eyes fluttered open as a shiver ran down his spine, "What the hell?" He grumbled and tried to shift around in his bed. At first he thought it was Sam, remembering days when a single nightmare would launch his kid brother under Dean's covers and scurrying for protection. But that wasn't right; this guy was _way_ too small to be Sammy. Dean noted that the pale slender arms barely reached around him. Craning his head around to get a better look, Dean was shocked to find Cass clinging in what appeared to be desperation. "Cass?"

Castiel lifts his head, a shaky smile crossing his lips. Dean sounds a little gruffer than he's used to but it's still him, it's still Castiel's Dean. Or so he tells himself, "Morning," he says quickly, so as not to leave Dean without a response. He wriggles closer, though he's already plastered against Dean's back. Cass rests his cheek on the heated flesh, nuzzling it gently and subsequently scratching it a little with his stubble.

Dean wasted no energy on gentleness or grace as he wrenched Castiel's arms off of him and turned around to face the angel. "If I've said it a thousand times, then you must've heard it at least once," Dean growled. "Personal. Space. Cass."

Castiel's eyes water instantly, the roughness which Dean uses to force him away bruises his soft skin but more over it's the tone Dean takes. He sounds angry, but worst of all he sounds detached from the angel. What was going on? Why would Dean want personal space around him? _'What'd I do?'_

Dean's grip on Cass' wrists weakened quickly when he caught sight of the tears in his eyes. More observations were quick to follow: not only was Cass crying, his face was expressing 100% more emotion than Dean thought possible from him, not to mention Cass was much thinner. And topless, which upon further observation almost proved to be pants-less as well, if it weren't for the too-low jeans hanging on his thighs. Dean quickly averted his eyes, and then had to look back to confirm it. "Why are you wearing my pants?"

Dean could only imagine how bad this looked to Sam, coming back with coffee and donuts just to find Cass wearing absolutely nothing at all, except for a pair of Dean's blue jeans, and cuddled up with him in bed no less. "What the hell's going on here? Are you alright?" Dean wanted so bad to launch off the wall with questions and accusations, but those tears in Cass' eyes held him down good. Dean had a sneaking suspicion that it would be all too easy to make things worse.

Cass flinches at Dean's tone again, annoyance. "I didn't have any clothes," he whispers self-consciously, awkwardly pulling up the jeans he was wearing. A deep, embarrassed blush forms on his cheeks as he tries to stop the ache in his chest. "I didn't... I didn't think you'd mind..." his voice breaks into sobs after that, his hands rushing up to his face and hiding it from view.

Dean wished he hadn't been so rude, and it only took one choked out sob for that wish to overwhelm him. He'd never meant to make Cass _cry_ –on the other hand, he didn't think it was even _possible_ for Cass to cry. "Hey hey hey," Dean shuffled closer, trying to take it back. Dean gently put his hand on Castiel's shoulders, trying to stop them from shaking. He hadn't realized that Cass' vessel had become so frail, so thin. It was almost like Cass' grace was gone again. Dean looked up at Sam, his expression one of sheer flabbergastation.

Sam looked pretty awkward himself, not sure what to do with a crying Castiel. "Uh, Dean?" Sam mutters, leaning closer to his brother, "When I came in Cass was wandering around the room and asked what day it was, after which he freaked out because we were apparently celebrating some band's achievements yesterday and he went to sleep 'in his own bed'. He's really confused Dean; I'm not so sure this is Cass..."

"I'm Castiel!" Cass lifts himself from the bed, tears streaming down his cheeks as he shouts at them. "And no I'm not alright! Why do you guys think I'm so confused! You're the ones not making any sense!"

Sam exchanged a quick look with Dean before looking back at the distraught angel, the jeans sagging low on his hips again. "Cass we're hunting right now," Sam started explaining vaguely, edging out where Castiel's knowledge was. The confused look he was given answered the first part of the question, Cass didn't know what 'hunting' meant. "We think it's a ghost," Sam continues, watching Castiel's expression change from confused to extremely confused mixed with a bit of concern.

"Ghosts? You're trying to telling me you're 'hunting ghosts'!" Cass couldn't believe his ears and for a second he thought this might be a prank but the serious looks on Sam and Dean's faces told him otherwise. "You aren't kidding... Oh god..." he rubbed his face repeatedly, "What happened? Where am I?" He wanders to the nearest window, peering out at a rather shady street.

Sam averted his gaze immediately, Castiel's exposed body not something he was entirely ready to see quite yet. It wasn't that he was full on nude yet, but the jeans were low enough to give a decent outline of where Castiel's curves and creases were.

Dean didn't know what to say, his best friend had just inexplicably lost his mind. While Sam had quickly turned a blind eye, Dean was too lost in thought to bother looking away. _'What happened? In the last month since I've seen him, he's completely forgot about hunting, found a whole new level of liking me, and...'_ Dean looked Castiel up and down; the man's form was thin –not too thin. The way he held himself seemed more... human. The angle of his torso, the way he placed his quivering hands on the window sill –which Dean now noticed bore fresh bruises on the wrists. _'Did I do that?'_ Sam seemed to be right –this wasn't Cass, at least, it wasn't their angel-fighting-a-war-in-heaven Cass.

Cass looks back at Dean now, worry filling his blue eyes. He quickly strode across the room and crawled onto the bed again. Dean's eyes widen quickly, his slow downward assessment of this new Castiel had just reached low-riding-jean level when he spun around, jostling the pants even lower as he sped across the room. On his hands and knees Castiel leaned over and planted a kiss on his beloved, hoping he wouldn't get the reaction he expected.

Dean blinked five times in rapid succession, trying to clear the image from his mind. He couldn't help the surprise that took over after. _'Did he just... KISS me?'_

A little voice in the back of Dean's head reminded him that if he reacted the way his gut told him to, not only would Castiel likely burst into tears –again, he may even try running away. And if Cass ran away, then they'd never figure out what the hell was going on. Dean even doubted that they'd be able to use the Enochian summoning to find him. Unfortunately, gut reactions are a hell of a lot faster than level-headed thinking, and by the time Dean concluded that he shouldn't shove the confused angel away; he'd already shoved the confused angel away.

Castiel stumbled backward on the bed, his leg instinctively slipping down to catch himself. Dean reacted _exactly_ how Cass hoped he wouldn't. His heart pounded hard against his ribs as he stared with large, hurt eyes. He was so confused and now in serious pain. How could Dean push him away? Instinctively, even! His breathing rate increased rapidly, tears continuing to slip over the rims of his eyes, "Wh-Why?" His chest rose and fell excessively and just as quickly as his breathing which was much shallower than moments before.

Dean looked at Cass sternly, though unintentionally so. His hands were gripping him tightly on either side, and Dean could've sworn he felt ribs not far beneath the surface. He was aware enough not to let Cass pull away, holding on tightly. "Alright, now you're going to stop all this crying and give me a straight answer here." Being in a state of confusion for a prolonged period of time was one of Dean's least favourite pastimes, and his patience was running low.

Dean's grip was still strong, forceful and unloving. Castiel squirmed against it though it did him little good. He looked to the floor now, pinned in place. Cass had been so accustomed to using nothing but human strength he was able to leave his angelic abilities entirely unchecked and almost forgotten at times. He bit his lip, trying to regain control over his heart which sent the rest of him into overdrive. Dean demanded he quit crying, demanded answers. When did their relationship stop being about supporting one another and became something about answers?

"Now, just calm down." Dean sat Cass down on the bed carefully, and pulled the covers over him. He'd like to say it was for Cass' sake, helping him cover up some humiliation over the whole ordeal, but in truth it was just impossible to ask serious questions of a friend who refused to pull his pants up. Dean rubbed Castiel's shoulders, trying to keep him calm and stop him from crying again.

Cass turned an intense blue depth back in Dean's direction, a swirl of emotions mixing together and consuming one another. He said nothing but took the blanket anyway, curling up with it for some comfort, since Dean wasn't giving it to him. Despite his intentions, Dean's contact with Castiel wasn't helping in the least; it only made him wonder more about what Dean was thinking. He glanced down at the hand on his shoulder and thought about moving away from it, but then what good would that do him? Dean would just get more angry, distant and cruel. Cass curled his bottom lip in and huffed the blanket further onto his shoulders, trying to hide.

"Now before you interrupt with protests and disagreements, let me get through this explanation first. Sam and I have always been hunters. Ghosts, wendigos, demons, ghouls, you name it, we kill it. It goes bump in the night, we kill it. And if you tell me you don't believe monsters are real, then I know for a fact you're not the Castiel we know. Now, is this the real you, or are you possessing a vessel?" Cass' answer to this question would set Dean and Sam in some sort of direction, the key was Cass answering without hyperventilating.

Cass remained in the blanket for several moments after the explanation; though he looked unresponsive his mind was moving rapidly, considering his options. He could whine and cry about Dean being mean, or he could figure something out. Castiel lowered the blanket around his waist, resting his arms on top of it. He'd wiped his eyes which looked almost dry now, "I believe in monsters, Dean. I'm an angel; I'd be pretty ignorant if I didn't." He wanted to snap at the Winchesters but he couldn't bring himself to do it, not to Dean. "This is me, the real me." He closed his eyes for a moment and spread his wings, visible to the hunters sitting in front of him.

While Dean was glad that Cass wasn't so far gone that he needed to give the 'monsters are real speech,' he was not in the least prepared for Castiel's wings. Last time he saw them, they were merely the shadows of wings, or at least that's how Dean understood it. But these... these were full blown, white-feathered _wings_. '_What the hell is he?'_ Dean couldn't help but wonder.

Sam gawked at the sight; despite seeing angels several times he'd never seen their wings either. For some reason this Castiel wasn't beyond their comprehension, a thought he sort of enjoyed. "Okay so you're an angel," Sam collects himself and leans in, questions of his own, "But you're definitely not Cass, not the one we know."

Castiel tilts his head slightly, "What exactly is the difference?"

Sam shrugs, "Well uh... you seem more... I dunno, human? You're more expressive and a lot more open with yourself." He gestures toward the blanket vaguely.

Cass looks down at himself and then back up, his gaze shifting to Dean for some clarification on this, "Am I not your Castiel?" he felt out of place and had noticed several things that weren't quite the same but that didn't mean they were that different, did it?

Dean looked him over, and his slow moving mind dropped the pieces together for him: the clinging, the kiss, the heartbreak, and the constant use of possessive; 'your Castiel.' "I'm pretty sure you're not our Cass," Dean said cautiously. "See, the Castiel I know is a stoic, stiff, by-the-book angel that's quick to take on heaven's burden. He's out fighting Raphael right now." '_And I'm praying he's still alive.'_ While Castiel was away from the hunters, Dean spent a fair amount of time wishing there was something they could do to help, but of course there never was.

"The question is, if you're not the Cass we know, but you're still a Cass who is an angel, then where'd you come from?" Now this was seriously bothering Dean. Even when he and Sam jumped to an alternate universe where magic and things didn't exist, there still weren't any _doubles_ of anyone.

Cass sighed and looked at himself for what felt like the millionth time that day, "I'm far from 'by the book'." He shrugged, his eyes flicking upward to stare into Dean's again. "I'd have to say an alternate reality or dimension, if I had to guess where I came from. Heaven's not burdened with anything I could take on at the moment." Cass furrowed his brow a little, confusion not quite leaving his features. "Then... I suppose that means you aren't my Dean, are you? I guess not." He rubbed his chest slightly, trying to ease the pain that was still thumping along inside. _'I left Dean just lying there... What will he think? That I did it on purpose? He'll be heartbroken.'_

"I need to get home." He whispered, "I need to see him, hold him; I need to tell him its okay." Cass gripped the blanket in front of him, frustrated as all hell. He glared up at Dean, "You take everything personally, you know that?" He grumbled, knowing full well this wasn't his Dean but he needed to get that out.

Sam inched around the bed, mostly unnoticed. He had a curiosity that ran too deep for him to not do what he was thinking of doing. Sam stood behind Castiel now, his eyes fixated on the wings spread out in front of him. He hesitated a little but shrugged his concerns off, reaching forward he placed his hands into the softest feathers at the base, just before reaching Castiel's spine.

Cass shuddered, his eyes rolling back slightly as he turned his head to look at Sam. The younger Winchester smiled awkwardly, a nervous laugh caught in his throat. He withdrew his hand after a few more strokes; he'd always wanted to touch an angel's wings, even as a kid. Another shiver ran its course through Cass' body, his legs shifting uncomfortably at the tingling sensation developing between them. Cass' wings hadn't been touched in a long time; he'd almost forgotten the little quirk they had.

"Please don't do that," he spoke directly to Sam, "It's a little personal," with that they folded back in, vanishing from sight. Sam only nodded, shuffling back to where he stood before. Cass looked at Dean again, "I'm sorry, where were we?" he had regained full control of himself, piecing together that something was definitely amiss around here. It no longer looked like his boyfriend had somehow stopped loving him; it looked a lot more like this wasn't his boyfriend, though they looked very similar. "I'm getting the feeling I'm not where I should be."

Dean couldn't help the smirk that decorated his lips. He was certain of what he just saw; there was no way that he could be wrong. "That's quite the happy face you were making a second a go," Dean joked, taking a stab at Cass' predicament. Dean had no idea that wings had that kind of an effect on angels. It seemed a little odd, considering they were supposed to refrain from that sort of thing. Further proof that their Father is an ass. Despite the ill-humoured joke, Dean couldn't help but find himself a little _too_ intrigued by Castiel's vulnerable expressions.

Castiel blushed furiously, "Yeah well don't get used to it," he smiled a little, his eyes fixated on Dean's, "Though I know your face better than you do; you enjoyed watching."

Giving himself a quick mental slap, Dean refocused on the issue at hand.

"Let me try something," he offered and stood up from the bed. Spreading his arms out wide, Dean did what was somehow his sole responsibility: call Cass. "Alright Cass, if you can here and can spare a minute, we could really use your help down here. I know we always say that, but we _really_ need you this time so if you could hurry it up, that'd be great." Dean dropped his arms to his sides and looked around the room, quickly checking behind himself first.

Cass almost laughed at the prayer though he did his best not to, "That's how you talk to your Castiel? No wonder you two haven't fucked yet," Cass' tone was casual and very 'matter of fact'. "'If you could hurry it up'," he mocks softly, mimicking Dean's voice, "How about a please? I bet he responds to please."

Dean let out an indignant huff, what did it matter how he prayed? It was enough of an arm twisting just to get him to pray in the first place. But it was what Cass said next really through Dean for a loop. It was already apparent that this Cass and whoever he was thinking was his Dean, were in some sort of relationship. But that didn't mean that the anti-Raphael battle angel was remotely interested in a relationship with Dean Winchester. Or vice versa, for that matter.

Sam couldn't help but note how much more of a chatter box this Cass was; he seemed to have an opinion about everything and acted as though he were the center of attention, a lot like a famous person. Sam figured that if their Castiel hadn't shown yet then he had a second to ask a few questions. "Hey, when you said celebrate a band's achievements and whatever, were you talking about-"

"My band, yeah." Cass nods, his tone isn't obnoxious but it's obvious he's proud of his group.

Sam nods a little, curious as to what kind of band but he realizes that their Cass hasn't shown. "Damn..." He mutters.

A few minutes passed and there was no sign of the apocalypse-weathered Castiel to be found. Every time he failed to show Dean felt a little hitch in his chest, like perhaps Castiel didn't make it out of his last scuffle with Raphael. Who would tell him if Cass was dead? How long would it take to know for sure? Worry or no worries, he still didn't show. "Well, that's just rude." Dean tried to joke off the anxiety.

At first Cass was going to say something along the lines of 'of course he didn't show up, I wouldn't either', but then he saw Deans' expression. He knew Dean better than anyone else, he'd even dare to say better than Sam (or at least the Sam he knew). Dean cracked jokes when upset, not just upset angry but when he was sad or lonely. And the little pained glint in those eyes told Castiel that Dean missed his angel, was worried about him.

Cass shuffled off the bed and to Dean's side, stepping around him to stand directly in front of him. Cass lifted his arms and wrapped them around Dean's neck, blue fixed on hazel, "I have a theory," he whispers with a smile, "If I'm here and he isn't, then he must be where I'm not. Get it?"

Sam lit up, "Like the two of you switched places somehow?"

"Right," Cass glanced at Sam then back to Dean, "So don't worry, he's alright I'm sure of it. Now how about we get ourselves some breakfast?"

Dean's eyes were as far from watering as he could command them to be. "Of course Cass is alright, why wouldn't he be? Don't talk crazy." Dean fought through the conversation, trying his utmost to deflect it from comforting him. "We'll talk about your theory more over breakfast." Dean gazed into those blue eyes, Cass' body pressed seamlessly against his own. It suddenly felt a lot hotter in that motel room. "But first, I'm going to get you a belt."


	3. Chapter 3

He remembered flying through several different heavens, looking for something, for someone. But now he couldn't remember what the hell it was. He'd been pulled viciously from the skies and painfully sucked into some kind of worm hole, he couldn't be sure. At first he saw different times rushing past him, saw several days go by and yet none did. Confusion swept over him but that was blocked out by a throaty scream, ripping up through his body and wracking his vocal chords until they couldn't make another sound.

Something tore at him, shredded his grace repeatedly as it attempted to heal. His hearing was impaired, everything sounded exactly like it did when trying to listen to it from underwater. He felt hot liquid dripping from his earlobe and down his neck, recognizing it as the colour red in this dark place was difficult but he managed it. The scenery around him flashed on and off, he swore he could see hands reaching for him but every time he strained to look he saw nothing, every time he thrashed out he touched nothing. Every grip on him wasn't there, he wasn't held down in any way but every piece of him felt heavy.

He recognized this space as a sort of alleyway between worlds, dimensions and different realities, even times. It wasn't a place for angels to travel but here he was. If he could hear anything clearly it was the sound of his own heart beating rapidly, pounding against his eardrums like a warning, an alarm. Fear groped at him from every orifice, forcing open vulnerabilities he didn't know were there. He could remember his big brothers telling them all not to come near this back-way into other worlds, it would be devastating and there wasn't anything that could save you from it. He remembered the lack of hope this space represented, how entering cut one off from heaven, from everything.

Castiel screamed again, stuck in this vacuum as an invisible force tore away at his most sensitive core. Battered, bruised and utterly tormented Castiel could only see one face, one glimmer of hope in every darkness he'd ever been in. He cried for it but his voice wouldn't give him anything but a squeak, he tried again but his ruined throat refused to cooperate. Finally, after several shallow breaths and letting tears slip down his stubbled cheeks, Castiel used all his strength and the remaining force left in his grace to call out in his true voice; _**"DEAN!"**_

Suddenly the world fell away; he hurdled through the negative space and felt a sky beneath him once again. Castiel turned over to see an open road and a familiar car a little ways off in the distance. _'Dean... Dean help me.'_ His wings were all but mangled now, but that didn't mean he couldn't angle his fall with them. Castiel used what little power he had left to pass through the roof of the car and crash safely into the back seat. The entire Impala bounced under the force of his fall, blood spattering up onto windshield in front of Dean and over the interior of the vehicle.

Castiel weakly lifted his head and let out a strained squeak instead of any words, his eyelids dropping a curtain on his consciousness and he fell limp.

Moments earlier...

Dean shrugged off the bouncer's grip, "I'm going already! Hands off!" Dean had a long standing dislike of bouncer's and security, stemming from the day he met Cass, back when those security guards made the purpose of their existence to stand between Dean and the lead singer of the uprising _Pleasure My Angel_. And here again, at some no-name bar in Indiana, yet another bouncer was interfering with Dean's search for Castiel.

The security guards escorted Dean from the building, "We don't need anybody harassing the clientele. If they say they haven't seen your man, then they haven't seen him. Learn to take no for an answer, buddy."

"You're no buddy of mine," Dean huffed, pulling away from the security guards again. The back door swung closed, leaving Dean alone in the dark of the night; another fruitless night. Dean hung his head low, hiding the tears from any passers-by. It had been far too long, without a single phone call and not a trace to go on. Keeping up like this would be impossible, and Dean knew he'd already mounted a ton of debt, just driving around the country and stopping in at bars. He'd have to go home, alone. Back to Castiel's waiting friends and tell them he'd found nothing. Dean cringed –this was it, this was Dean Winchester giving up on the love of his life.

Dean dropped himself into the driver's seat of the Impala, parked near the highway a block away from the bar. Drunkards tended to get into fights in parking lots, and Dean had a habit of keeping his car safe from harm. Rummaging in his jacket pocket for a couple seconds before finding the small velvet box, Dean removed the item and struggled to look at it. It was a small jewellery box, housing a broken promise that would never be delivered. Defeated, Dean tossed the small box into the back seat of the car.

As if it were punishment, as soon as Dean released the box from his hand, an ear piercing sound erupted. Dean quickly covered his ears, a crack formed along the windshield. The force passed, and left Dean sitting alone in the car, bewildered. Dean leaned forward to inspect the crack in the windshield, cursing his rotten luck, when another unexplained force struck the car, this time bouncing the '67 Impala off the ground. Dean's view of the crack in the window was obscured by the opaque crimson splatters that had joined it.

Dean spun around in his seat to get a look at the back, where the second force seemed to have struck. In that moment Dean couldn't tell if he was happy to see Cass again or not. It would have made him feel so much better to know that Cass was alive somewhere –hated him, but at least healthy and happy. Not like this, not tattered and mangled, bloody and gravely injured. Dean threw the door open and clambered around to the door of the backseat, "Cass?" Dean's voice cracked, excitement and worry mixing with a fear that made his blood run cold. Dean reached to the angel's neck to feel a pulse, pleading with unseen forces that Cass was ok.

Finding a faint heartbeat, Dean breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank God you're not dead," Dean's eyes glistened with tears, relief taking over the core shaking fear. Dean did his best to straighten Castiel's limp body to stop anything else from twisting out of place. Every time a limb was moved, more blood spilled out, and Dean's hands started to shake. "It'll be ok Cass, just hang on." Dean's voice wavered, and he was glad Castiel wasn't conscious to hear the uncertainty that filled his reassurances. Dean removed his jacked and wrapped Cass in it, hoping to stop him from bleeding out entirely.

Closing the passenger door with care not to catch Castiel in it, Dean hurriedly jumped back into the driver's seat and bee-lined for the nearest hospital. Some five minutes of reckless driving later, Dean was carrying an incredibly bloody angel into emergency. "Help! I need help!" Dean yelled upon entering, demanding nothing less than full attention. The sight of Cass made several waiting room occupants visibly pale, and two children cry. Two emergency nurses rushed out a gurney, and hurried Castiel into an available emergency room.

The receptionist took Dean aside, "Now tell me what happened."

Dean looked at her blankly, evidently panicked. "I don't know, I just found him like that." Dean wrung his hands nervously.

"And do you have any relation to him at all?"

"He's my boyfriend." Dean admitted before really thinking. How would it look to bring in your boyfriend in a state like that? And conveniently have no details on what happened? "Is he going to be ok?"

"There's no way to tell right now. If you could wait here until he regains consciousness it would be greatly appreciated." She smiled at him, a sort of accusatory glint visible in her eyes.

"I wouldn't leave without him." Dean honestly assured her.

Pacing around the waiting room, Dean realized he was forgetting something important. Pulling out his phone, Dean flipped through his contacts before finding Sam, and dialling through. "Hello, Sam? I found him. ...Well, I'm in Indiana, but he sort of dropped into the back seat of my car. ...He's hurt, really bad. I don't know if he'll, y'know." Dean choked a moment, trying not to break down, trying to remain hopeful. "We're at the 'Our Lady Hope' Hospital. Could you let the others know?"

* * *

><p>Sam had gone about his life as per usual. He knew that Castiel was long gone, the moment Balthazar gave up told Sam that much. If an angel couldn't find him there was nothing Sam could do about it, nothing at all. He'd tried to convince Dean of the same thing, over and over again but Dean hadn't listened. Sam was worried, sad that he lived in an empty house that used to house two other very active and rather exciting people.<p>

Now it was just him and his work, something he'd made a choice to drown in while waiting for his brother to come home. He couldn't very well sit there every day waiting for a phone call that would never come. At first, Sam called Dean all the time, once an hour, once every two hours, every five... Then at least twice a day, once a day for a long time, then it was once every two days and so on. Now they didn't speak, Dean never bothered to call Sam in those moments, it was always Sam calling out, looking, hoping his big brother was alive and well.

He stood now in his kitchen, the start of a weekend looming over him. A weekend with no work and he'd finished the last case last night. He'd have to wait until Monday to continue wrapping his mind up and keeping it busy. It was just him in a house alone, he knew he could call up Adam or even Bella, two people who he'd drifted from, but considering exactly that fact is what made him keep to himself further. If it hadn't been apparent before, it was now; Sam favoured Dean over everyone else. They lived together for Christ's sake.

Sam walked into his room which was half-way converted into a working space already. He sighed, noting he needed a new room for his job. He glared at the space, refusing to admit that the most obvious choice would be to remodel the room Castiel had turned into a mini karaoke bar in the basement. Cas may not be coming back but Dean would never accept something like that.

A sharp pain etched into his chest as he stared up at the blown up picture on the wall, he'd replaced his _Pleasure My Angel_ poster long ago and had replaced it with a group photo of everyone from back then. He walked over to it, staring at the overjoyed smiles on Dean's and Castiel's faces as they clung together, right next to himself and Bella, also rather close. Adam had squeezed in but was forced to stand slightly ahead of them to make sure the camera could catch the shorter Winchester and his angel. Gabriel and Jo seemed close there but Sam still wasn't sure what was up with those two, it wasn't as obvious as the relationship between Anna and Balthazar. And of course Chuck was there, somehow a lonely person in the middle of the group.

Sam flinched when he heard his phone ring; it was the distinct tone he used when Dean called him. "Hello?... Dean, you found him! Where are you?... Dropped into the car.. is he okay?" Sam listened to Dean's choked reply, "Okay, 'Our Lady Hope', thanks Dean. I'll call Balthazar and we'll be there immediately, alright? Just sit tight, Balthazar can probably help more than a doctor." With that Sam hung up and searched through his contacts.

The call came through with the same gravity as a call to the white house. The hairs on Balthazar's arms stood on end as he reached for the receiver, something felt inherently different about this call. He sent a sidelong glance to Anna before tentatively answering. Hearing Sam's voice on the other end gave him an instant drop in morale –it was another useless Dean update. Sam wasted no time in correcting this misconception, and Balthazar dropped the phone to the floor. "Anna, we have to go."

Teleporting behind her (which was technically flying at incredible speeds, but looked much more like teleporting), he took firm hold and reiterated: "NOW." Within seconds the two of them arrived in the rather empty Winchester residence.

"Must we take the others?" Balthazar breathed impatiently. Sam had better be happy Balthazar even came for him. With the name of the hospital in mind, he could've been at Cass' side by now. Knowing full well the answer to that question combined with the annoyed expression he received from Sam, three quick wingstrokes later landed the group –fully populated, in the hospital waiting room.

Sam wasn't used to the teleportation thing but regardless of his shaky legs he ran to Dean's side, wrapping his arms around the much smaller man's shoulders, "Dean," he squeezed his eyes shut, his voice coming out in a low whisper, "I missed you."

Dean tried a smile, for Sam's sake. "I missed you too, Sammy." And though it was true, Dean was simply too emotionally distracted to put much emphasis into it. "You should've seen him," the only reason Dean wasn't crying now was simply because there weren't any tears left to shed. His eyes were still red and puffy, "He was tattered... in pieces. There was so much blood..." Dean hugged Sam tightly, grateful for someone to lean on.

Sam didn't let go of Dean, especially after hearing this tidbit of information. "It'll be okay Dean, he'll be fine." Sam wasn't sure if he was being helpful or not, mostly relying on the fact that Cass was an angel and he'd regain consciousness sooner than anyone.

While Sam sped to Dean's side, Balthazar cornered the nearest attendant. "Where can I find Castiel? He's here, isn't he? I must know _where_!" From the description Sam had given over the phone, and the destination at which they found them, Balthazar was certain that human medicine would not be enough –especially if Castiel's own angelic grace hadn't saved him the hospital visit.

"He's in critical condition, no one is allowed to see him yet," the nurse stuttered out her proper lines, like any hospital worker would. Balthazar cursed under his breath.

"You don't understand! I can help him! He needs me in there, right now!"

"Sir, please calm down, or we'll have to ask you to leave." An orderly joined the nurse, almost looking for a fight –apparently it had been a slow night.

Gabriel grabbed hold of Balthazar's arm, "Hey man, cool it. They've got it, alright?" Angel or no angel there was no way they'd let Balthazar in, not without a need to call the local authorities.

Anna held her hands up to her chest nervously. "Where is he? What happened?" She spoke on behalf of the band in this; they all had the same expression of worry. Each of them missed Castiel, he was the reason they were together in the first place.

Grumbling with defeat, Balthazar joined the others in their anxiety-filled wait. Looking over to Anna, he mumbled an apology, "Sorry dear, I should've explained more. From what Sam's shared, it doesn't look good. I'd recommend asking Dean," Balthazar gestured to the brothers, "But he may not be exactly coherent."

* * *

><p>Castiel's eyes start fluttering open and once again he stares at the bleached white ceiling of a hospital room. "Mmmm..." he groans painfully as he tries to sit up, every limb feeling as though a ball and chain were attached. He remembers seeing Dean, the Impala and landing in the back seat. "Dean..." his voice is strained and sounds more like gravel than ever before. "Dean..." he tries to cry out, this time it works and a nurse rushes in. "Where's Dean?" Castiel can't quite understand why he wants to see Dean so badly, maybe it was the trauma he endured. Cass shakes his head, knowing Dean would look at him strangely if he were to act this way in the older Winchester's presence.<p>

"Where am I?" He rephrases the question, he feels better with the new wording.

"You're in the Our Lady Hope Hospital," The nurse checks him over as a doctor enters the room, "You've sustained several lethal injuries, sir, please remain lying down."

Cass looks down at himself and isn't shocked to see the amount of blood soaking his person and the sheets around him. The hospital gracefully cut him out of his clothing and now he lay in one of those ridiculous smocks, loosely tied around his bruised body. The doctor looks perturbed at Castiel's conscious state, someone who'd lost that much blood would be dead or at least very close to it. Luckily for him, Cass was an angel and the amount of blood loss didn't bother him so much. The problem he had was his mangled grace; his mojo was severely diminished and would take a long time to recover. He was close to human and he could feel himself slipping closer. The last of his strength was attempting to devote itself to healing the vessel he remained in, enough to keep it alive.

The doctor scanned him several times and after numerous tests he decided that this was definitely a miracle. Some of the deadly wounds had closed up, or at least healed 50% of the way. Castiel lay now with a dizzy head, his mind recalling the last time he'd been stuck in something like this during the apocalypse. He was hurt, very badly, but he would live or so he was told. Something about a stable condition was muttered over him and the nurse exited to get 'visitors'.

"Visitors?" he asked meekly, glancing up at the doctor again.

"Yes, it seems your friends have arrived. Your boyfriend has been here dutifully, not leaving the waiting room once." The doc smiled and headed for the door.

"Boyfriend...?" Cass repeated, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. He understood the term but couldn't figure out who they would be talking about. It must be the Winchester's and possibly Bobby, he decided. The doctors probably mistook Dean for being a homosexual like people always did.

* * *

><p>Sam looks up when the nurse enters, her expression showing she comes with good news, though she still stares at Dean a little strangely. "You may see him now." She motions to the room.<p>

Dean's eyes lit up with excitement, the look the nurse gave him didn't affect him in the least. Dean bolted ahead of the others, and none of them could really blame him. Dean had been the one to suffer most from losing Cass, had dropped everything to go and look for him, and put himself through the constant mental and emotional strains of thinking of nothing else.

Sam recognizes that the state Cass was carried in looked bad, especially for Dean. So he decides to stay back as the others run ahead. He wanders to the nurse's side and did his best to explain the situation, he didn't want police showing up and arresting Dean after finally getting his angel back.

"Cass?" Dean appeared in the doorway of Cass' hospital room.

Cass watches the door lazily, expecting a swarm of questions and 'what the hell Cass' and all that. He wishes he had answers to give but figures he'll do his best. "Hello." He offers in a low, obviously injured tone.

"God, Cass! Are you alright?" Dean took the few feet between him and the bed in three quick strides. He thought that he'd cried himself dry, but the relief of seeing those blue eyes, alive and conscious, was the most amazing feeling he'd had in these past few months, and he found himself tearing up again.

Castiel is surprised at Dean's concern, not to mention the way he bolted into the room. The water forming at the edges of Dean's eyes alarms him further, had he missed something? The last time he'd seen the Winchester's everything was going fairly well, considering. There were no life altering moments to be had, plus Dean would have called him if something was going on.

Dean threw his arms around Cass, hugging him tightly. "Why did you leave?" Dean couldn't help the question that plagued him. He never wanted to believe that Cass had left, but he always feared that dark thought.

Dean's strong embrace made Castiel groan, "Ah, Dean," he mutters, trying to indicate that he's still in pretty rough shape. He doesn't say anything else, a hug from a Winchester was rare indeed and he didn't want to end a nice tradition before it even started. Though the question bothered him, didn't Dean remember the whole war in heaven deal? That Cass was stuck and fighting it?

Dean pulled back, feeling awful for accusing Cass of abandoning him, "I'm sorry." Dean quickly leaned forward, laying a warm and passionate kiss on Cass' dry lips. He'd dreamt of kissing those lips for so long, but now it seemed as though all the life had been drained from their exchange. Something about Castiel's reaction seemed... wrong. "Cass?" Dean asked hesitantly.

The hug was one thing but a kiss? Cass stared at Dean blankly, his mind rushing back to the pizza man from their last get together but Dean had promptly put an end to his mimicking. Castiel couldn't think of anything to do in response now, this was _Dean_, Dean Winchester. What on earth was going on? That kiss was sensuous, warm and passionate, things Castiel was entirely unfamiliar with. He licked his lips unconsciously, wanting to keep the taste of Dean to remember yet... "I... I don't understand." Cass said hoarsely, attempting to speak reminding him of the pain, the hideous experience.

Dean's eyes darken as he tries to contemplate what exactly it is that Castiel doesn't understand. His apology? The hospital visit? The kiss? Maybe it was because he was badly injured, because he'd lost a lot of blood. Cass was just confused... yeah, that must be it.

It dawns on Cass that this may not be the reality he's familiar with, though Dean looks the same. "I'm..." he blinks slowly, trying to get a grasp on the situation. He figures it best to start at the beginning of Dean's confusion, "You asked why I left," he's quiet but clear in his words, despite his wrecked throat, "Don't you remember what I've been telling you, Dean? I have to stop Raphael, I can't stay around here despite how much I'd like to." He doesn't move though his gaze shifts to the others in the room now, all growing increasingly concerned as he speaks.

Every word sounds crazier than the first, and the crazier it sounds the worse the wounds that the words leave behind. Dean closes his eyes in silent grimace of the implications, _'I can't stay around here despite how much I'd like to'_ Why was he saying he couldn't stay? Cass sounded certain that he couldn't be with Dean, and before Dean could even take on the topic of Cass having to stop a teenage mutant ninja turtle he dropped the worst bombshell yet.

"Who are all of these people?'

"'Who are these people'?" Dean stuttered in repetition. It may have hurt to hear Cass say he couldn't be with him while in some delusional state, but at least Cass remembered who he was. "We're your friends Cass," Dean tried to sound reassuring, but all the tears had left his throat dry and his voice cracked. Concern was evident in his tone and etched into his facial features and he stared at Cass with inquisitive disbelief, wishing this weren't happening: all in all, it sounded like Castiel was losing his mind.

Castiel knew that Sam and Dean were his friends, yes. But the two of them didn't equal a group of people like this, especially without Bobby involved. He wished he could figure out why Dean was looking at him that way, with concern, caring and... Cass dare not consider the last thing he saw there. He vaguely understood it but it was way to presumptuous of him to even think of considering.

Bella was quickly catching on that something was amiss with Castiel. She'd devoted many hours to reading his blogs and interviews, watching televised interviews, and generally being a know-it-all-stalker-fan. And everything she'd known about Castiel couldn't accurately depict his reactions to this situation. Inching over to Sam, Bella shared her concerns. "He is not alright Sam, this is serious. Do you have any idea how this happened? Anything at all?"

Sam looks at Bella and shakes his head, "No idea. Dean hasn't told me much of anything; I'm about where you guys are right now." He furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes at the scene unfolding in front of him. What on earth could be going on? Cass was so different than normal; any half fan could see that.

Cass' vision is still blurry as he stares at them, their faces slowly coming into focus. He sees Sam at the back, tall and worried. He sees Chuck the prophet, though he isn't sure why the scruffy man is present. There's Adam, the younger half-brother of the Winchester's, also dead and/or occupied by Michael in the pit. And then there are two young women he doesn't recognize at first though one of them, he remembers, is Jo, a girl who died on their way to find Lucifer. The last three he sees are his siblings, Gabriel, Anna, and Balthazar. The group concerns him more than a little.

"I really don't understand..." He whispers.

Anna looks hurt, "Cass, what happened to you? Where did you go?" She couldn't quite wrap her head around what the angel said about heaven and some Raphael guy. She stepped closer to the bed.

Cass flinched, recalling every moment he'd had with Anna most recently, "How are you here? Stay back." He winced again, the pain rushing through him, the monitors beeping a little faster as his heart beat harder. Anna stopped and looked at Balthazar and Gabriel for an answer.

Gabriel was just as shocked as Anna at Cass' reply. "I guess he doesn't want you here..." Gabriel tried his hand at an approach, "Hey Cass, we're all friends here. You remember us, right? We're here to help."

Cass stares up at Gabriel, slightly less nervous than when faced with Anna, "I remember you, yes. Lucifer killed you," he growls out in the best intimidating voice he can, he considers for a moment that God may have brought Gabriel and Anna back as well, except for the way they're acting. _'Djinn powers don't work on angels... right? No, definitely not. Besides, I recognized the negative space and I couldn't be so mangled from a djinn.'_ He tells himself, trying to calm down.

"And I just told you where I was," He mutters nervously, slipping slightly behind Dean. Despite being an angel, Dean was still in a better condition than he was. He remembers the swirling vortex and mentally reaches out to touch his grace, hesitant and fearful to know its condition.

Dean was nearly euphoric when he felt Cass move behind him for protection. Somewhere, somehow, Cass still relied on Dean, still needed him for something. Dean moved to comfort him, trying hard not to hurt him this time. "Cass, it'll be ok-"

For all of those looking at him, Castiel goes from slightly upright and glaring to convulsing on the bed, his eyes rolled back and a light foam coming out of his mouth. His arms thrashed violently, one hand grasping desperately at Dean's shoulder before losing control of his muscles.

"CASS!" Dean caught Cass' fallen hand and held it tight, "Oh God, Cass!" Dean looked around the room for help, looking instinctively to family.

Sam snapped his head in Balthazar's direction, "Fix him up the best you can and get us out of here," it was a demand but he didn't know who else to turn to in a moment like this.

"Finally!" Balthazar broke from waiting impatiently to rapid action mode in 0.5 seconds, appearing suddenly at Cass' bedside. He laid hands on his fellow angel, working first to still his thrashing body. Closing his eyes and focusing deeper, Balthazar aimed to aid Castiel in his recovery from seizurific unconsciousness back to the world of the lucid. Balthazar caught one glimpse of Castiel's mutilated grace and visibly balked. He moved carefully to pull Cass' mental representation away from there, and blockaded the area as though it were worthy of quarantine.

Working meticulously to further heal and repair Castiel's vessel (which was just an oddity in Balthazar's extensive experience) and bring Castiel back around –perhaps unconscious, but no longer suffering. Balthazar sighed heavily, dropping his hands to his sides. "I'm afraid there's not much more I can do at this moment, this is a bit of work for those rusty with the force, you understand." Looking down at Castiel's faintly peaceful expression (very faintly), "He should be alright."

"Are you sure?" Dean asks stubbornly, wanting a better answer than 'should be.'

"I told you, there's nothing else to do. He is physically closer to 75% now, and let me tell you, that is a huge improvement. He'd already healed himself somewhat from what I could tell, and when he got here he should _not_ have been breathing. He's incredibly fortunate, I didn't think he had that sort of mastery left over his abilities." Balthazar's expression remained worried, even as he reassured the others. He contemplated over whether he should tell them about the grace... he decided against it. While it did constitute Castiel's soul, he didn't necessarily need it immediately, and with any luck it could recover with time.

"If you're sure..." Dean looked down at Cass' slumbering form, mixed feelings of gratefulness and fear kept him in a permanent state of exhaustion and stress. "Where's the doctor? Can we take Cass home?"

"I'll get him," Adam offered, never having been particularly close to his brother or his brother's boyfriend.

The doctor returned with Adam moments later, a little more than reluctant. "I told you already, there's no way someone in his condition will be able to leave tonight, never mind this week."

"Please, just take a look," Adam urged. The doctor conceded, and found much to his surprise that Castiel had recovered to the state that he would be eligible for release.

"Well I'll be damned." The doctor soon after signed the release forms, and handed out a prescription of T3s.

"Thank you, doctor." Dean picked Castiel up from the bed and carefully balanced his weight in order to carry him out. He tried his hardest to keep Castiel covered despite the flimsy hospital gown. Thinking strategically for a moment he turned to Balthazar, "My car is covered in blood, and its a few days drive home. Could you maybe..."

"Just how easy do you think this is?" Balthazar huffed, not one for patience at that very moment. Something awful had happened to Cass, worse than the demon's collar. All that did was control and suppress Castiel's grace, it didn't mutilate it. Something out there came awfully close to completely destroying Cass' grace, and Balthazar had no idea if Castiel could truly recover from that. So far it seemed like his personality had been permanently affected, completely transforming the angel he used to know. Just how extensive was the damage?

Sighing, he gave in. "I'll see what I can do." Prioritizing on Castiel's well being, Balthazar took Dean and Cass back to Lawrence first before returning to the hospital for the others. "We may need a hotel for the night," Balthazar informed them after stumbling to the floor.

Sam watches Balthazar's tired expression after returning from dropping Dean off and sighs. If Dean had possibly left the keys with them then he could bring everyone and the Impala home, it'd be a full car but they could have managed it. Now, however, they were stuck separated from Dean again. He puts an arm over Balthazar, helping the angel stand again, "Alright guys," he looks at the others, "Let's start walking, anyone who can pitch in for rooms please do so." He wasn't really asking anything of Adam or Chuck, Adam because he was younger by far and Chuck... well it was Chuck.

"I can pitch in," Bella offered, knowing full well rooms would be no problem with herself, Gabriel, Anna, and Balthazar. Between the four of them they could buy a chain of hotels without batting an eye.

Jo pouted and looked at Bella as they left the hospital, "What could have done something like that to him? To an angel..." She looked at Balthazar's rather limp form, "You think he was fighting some Raphael? A war in heaven? Balthazar is there a war in heaven?"

Anna shushed her, "Could you leave him alone for a bit? He's tired, it's been a long day and we could all use a rest." She pushed back tears as she remembered the way one of her best friends looked at her, with fearful and angry eyes. _'He looked so... vacant. Castiel what happened to you?'_ It was a question most of them were thinking, but no one present could really answer it so why bother asking aloud.

Bella walked beside Jo, her oh-so-distant boyfriend making no moves to change anything yet. She placed a friendly arm around Jo's shoulders as they exited the hospital, "Don't worry so much about him now, there's nowhere to go but up for him. It's after he's rested more and shows no improvement that you should worry. For the moment I'm just glad we have him back." And even if nothing were to change in Castiel's behaviour, at least they could all stop wondering at where he went. Unknowns drove everyone crazy.

* * *

><p>Dean carries Cass to their bedroom and lays him down on the bed. Removing the silly hospital smock, Dean notices that Cass seems physically different. He was off, and in some ways seemingly disproportionate. Dean furrows his brow with confusion, but he dismisses the minor incongruences and pulls the covers up to warm and comfort his damaged lover.<p>

Recalling the ring in the backseat of the car, Dean curses his forgetfulness. He had Cass here, finally back home, and now he didn't have the ring to give him. Nor did he have his car. All things considered, he'd much rather have Cass. Dean crawls into bed beside him, discarding majority of his clothes, as was customary in their bed. Cuddling up close to Cass, he kisses him gently on the lips and whispers his goodnight. "I love you, Cass."


	4. Chapter 4

A soft light pouring through thin curtains washes over Castiel's warm flesh, causing him to stir. He feels so much better now, what happened? Cass flinches as he recalls reaching for it, a mutilated glow. He feels for it again, stupidly, but this time encounters the blockade. Someone has shut it away from him, cut him off from it, one of his brothers or sister, probably. Castiel focuses on reality again, taking in his surroundings. He's laying on his side and feels a weight over him, an arm clutching his body and holding it down. He inhales lightly, his nose wiggling as he sniffs the air; everything smells fresh and clean. The room is well-furnished and even has tasteful wallpaper adorning the non-rotting wood behind it.

Castiel looks down at the arms draped around him, he recognizes the sound of breathing behind him and voice within it; it's Dean. These are Dean's arms holding him close, hands curled slightly under his torso in a 'never letting you go' sort of way. Castiel then notices that underneath the lush blanket he is undressed. His face flushes hot as the situation comes to light; he's lying naked in a bed with Dean. Dean's body pressed warmly against his backside; shifting now, Cass can feel the soft flesh of the other man's lower regions un-sticking from his heated skin.

He can barely understand what has happened here, Dean is peacefully clinging to him, spooning him as he's learned to call it. The same Dean who thoroughly enjoys personal space, likes it when Castiel remains further away when he's sleeping, and is entirely enthralled with the opposite sex. Why, then, was he happily hanging off of Castiel while they were both bare to one another and both male? It didn't make sense to him.

Cass shuffles enough to get Dean's soft and, recently, fairly untouched penis to detach from his ass, which was now moist with sweat. He feels the lump of flesh thump down to the bed, though the most prominent sound was that of skin on skin, the weight of it hitting Dean's leg. Castiel's blush deepens as he registers it but he insists on getting up, he can't sleep when he knows something isn't right.

Castiel slowly slides Dean's arm off of him, not entirely expecting the other man to remain sleeping. As Cass is rolling over to sit up he inevitably lifts the blanket, and as chance would have it, he was looking exactly where he revealed Dean's slumbering penis. Castiel knows he isn't supposed to look, this is one of those lessons he was taught early on when walking in on Dean in the bathroom once. However he can't help himself this time, something about Dean had been so inviting, though maybe he was imagining it.

He recalls being sucked out of the skies and the terror he experienced. The name he cried for was Dean's, not Sam and Dean, just Dean. In a moment of weakness where Castiel felt completely vulnerable and helpless, he called for a comfort, a saviour; he called for Dean. After a traumatic experience maybe he had still been in that state of mind and misinterpreted Dean's adoring and worried expressions. Maybe last night, after the seizure and he'd blacked, he'd imagined Dean's voice saying I love you.

Castiel doesn't cover it up again; instead he slowly reaches for it, his fingers hesitating above the sensitive skin. It's different than his own though in that moment he's not sure exactly what makes it so. His hand trembles but he lowers it anyway, taking a gentle hold on the currently soft flesh. His cheeks remain a light pink as he runs his thumb over it, not sure as to how he's supposed to handle one. _'You aren't supposed to, remember?'_ He tells himself sternly, remembering Dean's serious outlook on gays. Castiel doesn't care about them, Dean taught him free will and with that one has the right to choose who one wants to be with, be they male or female.

He recalls his hand and glances around the room again, everything looks nice though he isn't entirely clear on what the purpose of most of the decorations is. Regardless he lifts himself from the bed. Dean has not only taught him about choice, he's also taught him shame and in that moment Castiel vaguely forgot about it. He stands; his naked body exposed to the room and of course Dean. Cass listens to the house as he carefully walks toward the exit of the bedroom, there is nothing else stirring, no one but Dean is there with him.

_Nightmares in hallways were probably the worst. Dean looked down the familiar hall from their bedroom toward the living and dining rooms. The hall was short enough as their house wasn't that large. It was dark out, and from what he could tell through the window at his end of the hall, there were no stars in the sky. No moon, nothing. _

_Down the hall he heard the front door open. Fear gripped him instantly. He started to run towards the door, but every step he took made the hallway longer. One step forward stretched the hallway two feet longer. This is why nightmare in hallways were the worst._

_Dean knew what the sound at the door meant, he'd lived this over and over and over, night after night. There was no intruder, only someone leaving. The sound of the front door slamming shut echoed down the hall –Castiel ran away from him, again. Dean dropped to his knees with an anguished cry. Every night the same, every time he was left alone; abandoned. _

Dean squirms on the bed, quickly soaking the sheets in a cold sweat. Tears rolling down his cheeks, he quickly moves his arm across the covers –empty. Dean's eyes fly open, _'Not again.'_ His mind races and falls into a full panic. And then he spots him, Castiel's hand is inches from the door knob. '_He's leaving... Please God, don't let him leave me._' Dean can't act, can only watch Castiel decide to leave.

Castiel hesitates as he places his hand over the handle; fear from yesterday hasn't quite left him. He's about to leave the room that holds the one thing that could comfort him, and that same thing is actually willing to do it for once.

He's made up his mind; Castiel rushes back to the bed and crawls in again. Though the territory is unfamiliar and he doesn't know why everyone is acting so strangely, Castiel feels safe next to Dean, like nothing from other dimensions can suck him away again as long as they are together. He snuggles back into the welcoming embrace, not caring if Dean wakes or is already awake; Dean seems warmer here, especially when conscious. Dean can't help the tears of relief that flood his eyes. He clamps his arms around his boyfriend, refusing to let go. His limbs shake from the emotional wracking, but he holds strong, nuzzling Castiel's cheek before resting in the crook of his neck.

Castiel lifts his head from the warmth of the other man's flesh, large blue eyes staring up at a face he's starting to define as handsome, beautiful even. "Dean," he whispers, enjoying the sound of the man's name.

Dean looks Cass in eye, fighting the emotional release down and keeping a straight face. It feels so good to hear Cass' voice again, and it feels even better to hear his name. Dean smiles at Cass, more grateful than he could've ever imagined to have that angel back in his arms.

Castiel knows the war is raging on but currently there is nothing he can do for it, nothing to stop it or otherwise. He's injured, he's cut off from his grace, and more importantly he's with Dean. Cass wishes he could understand what was going on, that way he could at least explain it to Dean. He really didn't like being looked at like he was insane, though he was looking at the rest of them as if they were.

Castiel's eyes widen, something that didn't look possible at first. "Dean I think I get it." He smiles, believing he has the solution, "This is an alternate reality; I don't remember everything you think I should because I never lived it." He doesn't consider how he sounds, especially to someone who thinks that he's already snapped, "I believe you all are the ones who have changed and are acting strangely while you're all looking at me the same way. It's because I'm not the same Castiel that you know." He's pleased with himself; he knows why everything is different and is certain that Dean will believe him as well.

Dean had never been certain as to what it would feel like to have something metaphorically 'break' inside him, but now he's fairly certain he knows. Last night at the hospital, Castiel had been injured and dazed, and drained of blood. Delusions made sense. But now, after Balthazar's repairs and a full night's rest... The whole situation was like a javelin to the heart, but Cass couldn't help it. Somehow, Dean got the impression that he didn't do this to himself on purpose, it wasn't Cass' fault.

Dean pet Cass' head, trying hard to give a sympathetic smile. "I'm glad you've figured it out." He humours him. Watching Cass struggle with confusion reminds Dean of the bloodied state he was in last night, and can't put Cass through it. '_I can't believe it... He's completely lost his mind. He honestly believes what he's saying._' Despite his darker fears, Dean keeps a smile on, for Cass' sake.

Cass nods knowingly, certain of it now. He knows, but that doesn't solve the problem of how to get home. Sam and Dean are in serious danger back there without him, he's sure of that much. Raphael will destroy everything without something to oppose him and Cass knows the Winchester's aren't on the same level. "On the bright side," Castiel mutters, "I think I've found a new way to get rid of Raphael," he gingerly places a hand over his chest, remembering the torment he suffered on his way through to this world. Despite Dean agreeing with him, however, Castiel can tell that something is genuinely out of sorts with the man's response. Though in the moment he doesn't have the patience to try and figure it out.

"So you're saying that the last three years we were together, don't mean anything to you? Because it wasn't you?" Dean couldn't help but ask these questions, even if he himself thought better of it. It wasn't fair to ask that of Cass, he knew that. He also knew that he couldn't very well handle the answer. But still, he needed to know where he stood.

"That isn't what I said, Dean." Castiel says in his usual even and straightforward tone, he pauses for a moment to reconsider what Dean's asking him. The pain in Dean's eyes was something Castiel was used to seeing though never directed at himself, he didn't know what to do with it. Somehow he was hurting his friend but he had no idea how or why.

Repeatedly fighting back tears was starting to make Dean's chest ache, and diverting from the subject seemed to be the best way to get around it. "You know, don't worry about it. It's not your fault. But hey, I guess that means we have a lot of time to make up for, huh?" Dean still wasn't ready to let Cass go, not emotionally and not physically.

Cass looks up at him and flinches slightly at a harsh pang beneath his ribs. Though startled by a new sensation he feels he can't let this conversation lie, "Let me explain what I mean first, Dean. I am not saying that the last three years haven't meant anything, I'm just saying they were experienced by a different Castiel."

Hearing it in Cass' own words didn't make things any easier on Dean. He'd just been confirmed that his Castiel, the person and personality, soul and whatever else, was gone. No particular reason why, just gone. And the individual who was left didn't share the same feelings as Dean did, or the same feelings as the former occupant of Castiel's mind. This strange, broken identity of Cass was all that remained of Dean's lover, and the brutal reality of it hurt more than he could really bear. But what could he do? He couldn't live without Cass, and he definitely couldn't abandon him now that he was half crazy. What else was there to do than play along? Dean felt another fragile piece of himself shatter inside.

Cass can see his explanation isn't any better than the last and Dean looks like he's on the verge of a break down. Castiel sighs in frustration and buries his face against Dean again, "It's hard to explain," He concedes, "Just try to understand that I don't mean to harm you." He wishes Dean would stop looking at him like that.

'_You already have hurt me, Cass._' Dean thinks, but knows he can never say. Not to this Cass –what would be the point? Cass couldn't help it, and taking it out on him, when he clearly didn't mean to cause any harm, was simply unfair. Dean nuzzles back, enjoying the brief moment of closeness that Cass has offered him.

A low grumble in the angel's belly tells him he needs food, something he remembers from the last time he was human. Blue eyes shoot back up to Dean's face, their noses barely apart now. Cass is used to being told to back off, give personal space and all that; he pulls away immediately to avoid being scolded again. "Sorry," he whispers awkwardly, "Can we..." he motions toward the door, "Get food?" Cass feels embarrassed for asking, expecting to be laughed at and ridiculed like usual. Dean has a very abrasive attitude, though Cass can't blame him after so many years of hunting.

"No, wait-" Dean reaches out to stop Cass from backing away. "I don't know what you want from me," Dean's voice cracks momentarily, and he is honestly getting tired of that. "I love you, Cass. No matter which you it is. I want you to stay close to me, as close as possible as long as possible and as often as possible. And please, _please_ don't leave me." Dean's brow is furrowed, all previous attempts at retaining his relationship with Castiel seemingly failed or just flat out not understood.

Castiel stops entirely now, the words 'I love you' repeating and reverberating in his mind continuously. He turns his surprised expression on Dean now, confused yet touched by the other man's words. Dean has never spoken things like this to him before, no one has; not even his own father. Castiel realizes in this moment that he knows very little about love, was it that ache in his chest? Every time he saw that sad, defeated look on Dean's face; was love what made him want to wipe it away? He stares at Dean with new eyes for the first time, he can hear his heart's beating, pounding away in his ears and intensifying his thoughts.

Dean's never asked him to stay like this, pleading and begging him not to go. It holds a different weight than normal, it feels more important. Castiel takes Dean's hand in his own, placing the other on top to cover Dean's with both, "Thank you, Dean." He smiles genuinely, squeezing Dean's hand as a rush of emotions swirl in his head and almost confuse him thoroughly. "I will not leave you alone, I promise."

Another grumble screws up the angel's face and he looks at Dean pleadingly.

"Yes, you can have food." For seem reason Castiel's new personality split was inherently broken; trained and requiring permissions and directives. It didn't make any sense, but Dean didn't want to aggravate the situation further by prodding at Castiel's identity. If Cass wished to believe he was an alternate dimension being with a different version of Sam and Dean in another world, Dean would allow him.

Castiel sits up, since the other man refuses to let go of him he's dragged up as well. Cass tugs at Dean's arm, a little playful though it's more like an 'old police dog' kind of playful rather than an excited puppy like Dean's used to. This Castiel has been a soldier for a long time now; even though he discovered free will and choice recently he's still got a long way to go.

"Come," Castiel demands; easing himself into a new role for the moment. This Dean seems to care for him deeply, or he thinks that's what it is anyway. If Dean cares so much then Castiel would like to know what kind of antics are acceptable, not that Cass is prone to them but if he's going to experiment in human ways it may as well be with someone accepting. That was something else he'd learned from the Winchester's, he was powerless and had no way home, why worry about it?

He spots a housecoat that's about his size hanging on the wall and goes for it, running about naked wasn't his style. Cass expects Dean isn't too far behind as he trots out the door quickly, smiling to himself. He's not sure why but he feels relieved for once, like there isn't a massive weight on his shoulders. Of course, there still is and he isn't there to hold it up, instead there's some other version of him there, someone who may not even be an angel for all he knows.

Dean couldn't help but smile at Cass' trot out the door. He was broken, but he seemed happy enough. He was safe with Dean, he wasn't in some gutter, he wasn't dropping into the car in a near dead, bloody heap. He could be healthy, and happy, and safe –and that was the least of what Dean wished to provide for him. Dean trails behind, following Cass to the kitchen.

Castiel reaches the desired room and spins around to face Dean again, "Am I an angel?" He asks curiously, hoping it's a yes and not a 'what the hell are you talking about?'.

Dean raised an eyebrow, '_Well he remembers that much_.' "Yes Cass, you are an angel. You've been on Earth for several years, enslaved by a man named Michael... err, the other Cass was, if that's what you're asking." Dean scratched his head, suddenly confused by Castiel's question.

"Anyway, I'll get breakfast ready for you, k? Just have a seat at the table..." Dean looked at the amassed collection of legal documents strewn about the surface. Sighing, Dean quickly collected the papers and set them aside. Re-gesturing to the table, he reiterates, "Have a seat."

Castiel sits down, very un-used to wearing housecoats and no pants so he doesn't quite grasp the idea he should keep his legs together while sitting. "Okay so you know of angels, that helps." He nods, piecing parts of the story together. If that were the case then what happened between the two Castiel's could have originated from either reality, which didn't narrow down the hunt any but it did help. Not to mention that meant he definitely had siblings here, which meant someone known patched up his grace and he didn't have to go hunting for a random being.

Cass looks up at Dean's tired form and feels himself sink lower in the chair, "Have I done something wrong, Dean?" Impossibly blue and concerned orbs stare across the room, he feels smaller and watching Dean's back makes him feel worse. Dean appears smaller too, though this isn't just a feeling, it's true.

**Author's Note**: **I've been told to cut the chapters down smaller lol (I'm the resident editor here I guess) And it may be due to lack of reviews! So anyone reading this and not reviewing, I see you there! Give us love!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note****: Thank you to those who are reviewing :) I really appreciate it! I have 2 chapters already written, I just wait for more reviews before I post them XD Anyway yes, I love reviews on each chapter! For those asking :P And also thanks to everyone reading it, though not all review I hope you're enjoying the story :) **

"Alright, everyone up!" Balthazar strode the hotel halls, banging on the doors as he went. He was eager to get back to Cass, to check on his little friend and protectee. "Would you get your lily asses out of the covers already?" He shouted again.

"Dude, this is not the friendliest wake up call," Gabriel's bed head pokes out of his and Jo's single. "And it's not even personalized! Jesus man!"

"Just get out here," Balthazar spat back.

Sam groans lightly and clambers out of bed, calling out drowsily to inform Balthazar he needs no more prodding; "Coming."

With some time wasted on gathering the others, Balthazar eventually had them all in one place, with the juice to get them home. Out of the kindness of his heart (and Sam's request) he took the bloody Impala with as well. The sight of it was ghastly, and gave him all the more incentive to get them back to Lawrence _now_.

Arriving just outside the Winchester residence (as they were transporting a large automobile with them), the group quickly swarmed inside.

Sam would never get used to the 'teleporting' speed at which angels flew but that didn't matter at the moment. Dean was home and so was Cass. After a full night's rest and being healed as far as he could be by Balthazar, Castiel must be coherent and Sam intended to get some answers.

Sam's the first one to the kitchen, he knows what time it is and knows Dean's habits; they'd be hungry and in the process of looking for food. He opens the door to see the two scantily clad in housecoats, his first opinion is that things must have gone well. Though a second glance at Castiel's expression tells him otherwise.

Cass looks up at the crew that enters and once again steps behind Dean but this time very slightly. He knows this isn't his reality and these aren't the same angels, or if they even were. Then it makes him wonder, who could have bordered off his grace like that if one of these three hadn't been the one to do it? Castiel doesn't know if he should attempt to act how they expect him to, though at the same time he has no idea what they expect. Best to go with the truth, as always, well aside from the times he was with Dean, apparently 'demons' isn't the correct response no matter how true.

"You can all be at ease now; I've discovered what's happened." Castiel attempts to reassure them.

While the others are overjoyed at Castiel's proclamation of answers, Dean can't help a face palm reaction. Cass was about to go through it all again –this other world, war in heaven, different reality scenario. Dean chooses a different course of action, wrapping an arm around Castiel's slender shoulders to comfort his mentally disabled lover; although said lover was unaware that he needed comforting.

Anna smiles; relieved. "Oh thank God!" she quickly steps forward, wrapping her arms around Cass in a hug. Of course, she can instantly tell he's still very off. Castiel is normally very loving, quicker than she just was to hug those that cared for him, and usually it was very warm. This... this was stiff and actually very awkward. She steps back again, looking up at his rather blank expression.

"As I said, I know what happened." He continues, looking back at the rest of the group. He's known Anna for a long time and her being so caring, just like Dean, it's odd for him. Not to mention the way his brothers look at him now, concern and... There's that look again, though it isn't as intense in these two as it is when Dean looks at him. "I'm not the same Castiel that you know; I fell through the back ways between realms," he looks at the ones he figures might be angels though he doesn't know that Balthazar is the only one he should be looking at. "Do you recall being told about them? Travel spaces not meant for angels, it explains why my grace is so..." He doesn't know how to describe the state it's in so he settles on a word, "destroyed."

Anna looks back at Balthazar now, tears welling up in her eyes. She pushes past the group to stand outside the room; she can't stand to see Castiel like this, so broken.

Anna's world wasn't the only one who shattered upon receiving Castiel's explanation. Adam turned to look at Sam, expecting his brother to have some sort of explanation as to how someone can up and disappear in the middle of the night without a trace and reappear months later half dead with half a brain. He didn't voice these characterizations for fear of Dean killing him, but they were there nonetheless.

Jo holds Bella's hand and places another on Gabriel's shoulder, showing him that she's there for him if he needs her.

Bella appreciated Jo's gesture, but Jo wasn't the one she'd wanted it from. Hell, she'd slept on the floor of Jo's room the night before, continuing to give Sam his space. Opting for air, Bella stepped out to join Anna, away from the rest of the group.

Sam's immediately reaction is to look at Dean, it's clear the older Winchester has already heard this rather loose idea of Cass'. _'He vanishes for months without a trace and when he comes back he's completely lost his marbles. Oh Dean...'_ He turns an apologetic look on Bella, knowing he hasn't been a good boyfriend to her at all lately and it's a wonder to him how she hasn't left yet. But Dean needs him more now; "Sounds... like a good idea of what happened Cass, good job."

Castiel tilts his head at Sam, recognizing the tone. Sam didn't believe him, or maybe he thought it was a stupid theory. "It's what happened," Castiel insists strongly. He looks around at the faces, he can't quite determine the expressions but he recognizes enough to know they aren't really supporting him. Another frustrated sigh leaves him before turning back toward Dean, "Do you actually believe me, Dean?" he asks, looking for someone to back him up on this. Dean's always been his best friend; he'd stand behind him even if it sounds crazy, right? Of course he would.

Dean gives Cass a reassuring rub on the shoulder, putting on his best faithful face. Even if he wasn't faithful to Cass' idea, he was faithful to Cass, and that's what Cass was calling on. "Of course I do Cass."

Castiel smiles at that, Dean's unwavering support, even if he's unsure. He knew Dean wouldn't step back on him like that; it was comforting to know someone had his back despite not knowing the whole truth behind something, refreshing even.

Sam clears his throat, "It's just that..." shrugging he glances down at Cass' surprisingly scarred and bruised form, "It sounds a little far-fetched. Alternate realities aren't really... real..." He hopes he isn't ruining any of Dean's plans by saying this to Cass.

"No Sam," Dean interjects, giving him that eye-to-eye 'don't fuck this up' look, but there's no rage, only desperation.

Sam looks back, apologetically once again. He knows it's a thin line with Cass right now, he just wishes he could state facts and the angel would snap back to normal.

Castiel doesn't pay too much attention to Sam in that moment; if there are things like angels around then obviously there would be a possibility for an alternate reality. Though being a creature that's seen the bigger picture Cass knows that he's had an advantage over this Sam. "Never mind, I'm just trying to explain to you that the world I'm from is different than this one."

"Castiel," Balthazar tries his luck at communication, "My friend, I am the only other angel here. And I vaguely know of what you're talking about, but... Dear boy, those are simply fairy tales. Like Icarus and flying too close to the sun. The fact that you know of them explains how you could supplement them as the cause for your disappearance but it's not true."

"You don't know that for sure," Dean snapped, defending Castiel more out of habit than choice, though he'd have done it anyway.

Cass stares at Balthazar, hurt by the accusation at first but then remembers this isn't the same angel he remembers. He places a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder, a thankful expression aimed at the defensive man. He looks back at Balthazar, "I understand they're stories, Balthazar. That's why I mention them now, I fell through it. If you're the other angel then you alone would know what state I'm in, what else could have done that to me?" he glowers at his assumed friend, "I remember it clearly, it ended yesterday for pete's sake. I was trapped in that space for months, or at least it felt like months. Time passes differently between realms."

Castiel takes a moment and listens to himself; if he were another angel listening to this, watching an old friend spout gibberish about old fairy tales after having gone through some unspeakable transformation of his personality, he probably wouldn't believe them either. Cass shakes his head, his eyes feeling heavy all of a sudden, "I sound insane," he mumbles to himself, suddenly feeling very alone. Everyone here either saw him for a friend who'd lost his mind or they were humouring him. But not Dean, right? Cass looks at Dean briefly, and in that moment, to keep his spirits up, he believes against it; Dean is on his side this time.

After a moment Jo snuck around to Dean's side and whispered in his ear, "Did you try getting him to sing or dance? He's always loved doing that, maybe it'd jog his brain a little. Oh! Or having sex with him? That might do it." She was trying to help though she knew that Dean probably wouldn't have had a chance to get Cass to do any of those things yet since it was still pretty early in the morning.

The whispers in his ear caught him off guard for a moment before registering that it was Jo. Dean nodded, '_not a bad idea_.'

"You guys are on your own for food, but I promised Cass breakfast." Dean sat Cass down at the kitchen table and got back to the beginnings of scrounging up sustenance. Ending up with French toast and an orange, breakfast was haphazardly served.

Subject change, this didn't bother Castiel at all. He sat excitedly waiting for his breakfast, eager to try Dean's cooking. When he ate as a human last time they went out for burgers and the like, never did one of the Winchester's cook for him, definitely not Bobby who had been in a wheelchair majority of the time. Cass dug in happily, "Thank you, Dean." He expressed his gratitude the best way he knew how, saying it outright. Though his scarfing could count as thanks as well.

While Cass ate breakfast, Dean booked it outside to his car –there was something he needed to retrieve from the backseat. That is, if it wasn't crushed from Castiel's landing –the entire car _bounced_ for Christ's sake. "Got it." Dean wiped some dried blood from the velvet box and pocketed it.

Re-entering the kitchen, "Hey Cass, would you mind if we headed up to the bedroom for a minute? There's something I'd like to talk to you about."

Cass had just finished his French toast and the last bits of orange when Dean came back in. He wiped his mouth of any excess crumbs or syrup, slightly nervous about the request. Despite his concerns he nods his head, yes.

Down the hall to the room, Dean shut the door behind them and circled around Cass so that the angel was between Dean and the bed. Then it was simply a matter of walking forward, and pushing Cass back onto the bed.

Castiel was much weaker now and had no hope of remaining on his feet when pushed. He hit the bed with a soft thud, breath escaping his lungs quickly though instantly replaced by a sharp inhale. He was shocked at Dean's behaviour and a little more nervous than before. "Dean?" He asks softly.

"Shh... you don't need to ask questions. Just trust me." Dean whispered gently to Cass as he pulled the drawstring of Cass' housecoat loose. Brushing the loose fabric aside, Dean positioned himself between Castiel's legs, prying them further apart if necessary.

Castiel wriggles in the bed, his face flushing hot as he feels the smooth material slide from his skin. The look in Dean's eyes has an effect on him, something he can't decipher in that moment of new sensations. Dean's body pressed up against him in a way that's personal, between his legs in a way nothing's ever been. "I trust you," he breathes hesitantly, unsure and confused.

With a calming hand stroking Cass' inner thigh and the second wrapped around the base of Cass' cock, Dean leaned forward and took the tip into his mouth. Moving slowly at first, Dean worked at arousing his partner.

Castiel's head flies backward with the feeling, a sharp cry bursting out with the sudden pleasure; Dean's experienced movements against his never-before-touched and overly anxious penis were almost more than he could take. Cass writhes against Dean's hands, pressed against the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh and gripping his shaft firmly. He's hard instantly, blood rushing into his dick making it heavy and throb into Dean's touch. The other man's tongue working Cass' length thoroughly; while the skilled muscles in his mouth and lips applied the perfect amount of pressure.

Castiel was so caught up in the feeling he almost missed the sound, the wet, sloppy sucking noises made as Dean bobbed his head up and down on Cass' inexperienced cock. "Dean..." he wheezes, feeling his body stiffen and seize to the sensation, "Ohhh... Dean! Dean!" He doesn't know how he knows to do it but he starts bucking his hips as his exclamations become more desperate. He's never felt this before, his muscles were experiencing spasms similar to yesterday but at the same time it was so much different.

His legs tighten and his toes curl in, he feels if he doesn't keep moving he will truly lose his mind. He gives no warning other than screaming for Dean when he comes, his legs instinctively wrapping around the man's shoulders, his hands jammed into the soft, brown hair and clutching it helplessly.

This process barely took two minutes, maybe three; and Castiel was left a breathless mess, sweat beading all over his body and some saliva drooling from the corner of his mouth. Despite having just shuddered through an orgasm, the feeling of Dean lifting his head from Cass' softening cock only made it stiffen again, though only slightly.

Hazy eyes gazed down at the somehow extremely attractive man between his legs; the image gets a light twitch out of him. "Dean... I..." he doesn't know what to say, all the blood in his brain has seeped out. His cheeks are flushed, his chest rising and falling unevenly and his legs slowly slipping back onto the bed. He doesn't know why but he has an urge to kiss Dean, so he does. Castiel leans up, taking Dean's head in his hands and gently pulls him forward and their lips together. He closes his eyes, tasting himself in Dean's kiss is the oddest moment he's experienced thus far, he thinks. He presses his tongue inside; he knows how to kiss passionately; the pizza man taught him.

Once he pulled away, after what felt like an amazingly hot and messy forever, Castiel stares into Dean's eyes and feels that he finally understands what love is.

Dean's eyes flutter open, head slightly cradled from Castiel's grip to either jaw. He gazes into those lust-filled eyes and smiles, finding a glimpse of his Cass deep down in there. Dean's smile only broadened as he recognized that glint behind the lust, and he was certain now that Cass could still love him. Dean leaned forward, kissing Castiel and pushing him back onto the bed gently. Dean lay over him, kissing him softly, as his hand snaked down to the pocket of his house coat...


	6. Chapter 6

"Alright," Dean shuffled across the diner booth, the smell of pancake syrup and fried bacon fresh in the air, "sit down." Dean motioned for Cass to sit next to him, allowing Sam to have the other side of the booth. Dean could feel Cass next to him, and couldn't help but be reminded of that body's heat pressed against him just an hour ago. Shifting uncomfortably, Dean preoccupied himself with the menu and idle conversation about another dimension.

Castiel plopped next to Dean, a belt tightening the jeans he was still wearing and an oversized button-up plaid shirt. He knows this isn't his Dean but he's never been one who likes to sit alone, thusly he shuffles as close to the hunter as he's allowed, and a bit further. Part of him wants to do the other Castiel a favour, get Dean hooked for him so when they switch back his doppelganger angel will have a good _friend_.

"So, you figure you're not where you're supposed to be huh?" Dean pushed the topic, sticking to it like glue. If he didn't, it was only a matter of time before Sam started to tease him for God knows what slip of the tongue or sidelong glance. Still, Dean couldn't forget Cass' reaction when he pieced together that this Dean was not his Dean. '_I need to get home. I need to see him, hold him; I need to tell him its okay.'_ Why did it bother Dean so much to hear Cass talk about someone else that way? Sure, it was another Dean (supposedly), but Cass had already found the distinction between the two Deans, and some lucky bastard in another dimension had more love from one angel than he probably knew what to do with. Dean could only hope that the idiot appreciated what he had.

'_I'm jealous..._' Dean pieced together, quickly followed by another mental berating. '_That's just crazy talk,_' he scolded himself, '_what the hell do I have to be jealous of?_'

Castiel looks up at Dean and watches several emotions pass over the man's rugged features, he recognizes them as jealousy then quick denial though he isn't quite sure where the thoughts originated from. _'I could read his mind... but that's no fun.'_ He catches every glance and knows that somehow he's already got his claws in this Dean, a wry smile coming to his lips. "Well like I said, I think your angel and I switched places but I have no idea how." He casually remains on topic as if he hasn't noticed Dean stealing glimpses of him.

"You know I actually kind of believe him," Sam muttered, putting the menu down, "The way he acts, he's too different to our Cass."

"I thought we were passed this?" Cass pouts, furrowing his brow at the much larger Sammy. In fact, they're both bigger. He looks back at Dean again, he can see the muscle definition in his arms through those sleeves; glad Dean's taken off the jacket indoors. Cass can't help but wonder if he's bigger below the belt too, itching to reach over and cop a feel. The only thing stopping him was Dean's rough and rather abrasive attitude, _'But he likes me, I already saw that.'_ He nods to himself, having made up his mind.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, he's definitely not Cass," and at the same time, Dean couldn't deny that he definitely _was_ Cass. Or rather, this Cass happened to look like this as an angel and coincidentally looked identical to Cass' vessel here in this realm... Dean's mind temporarily went numb –this just wasn't his sort of puzzle.

Dean looked at Cass to his side. "Any idea what you're going to order? Cuz I know what I'm having."

"Oh, of course." Cass smiles, his mind stuck on the idea of pancakes and syrup.

The waitress came by to take their orders, and shortly after Dean and Sam both happily had their coffees –Dean's was black, as usual. Sam's was loaded with cream and sugar, to which Dean couldn't even joke that he'd get fat –given their line of work, that was nearly impossible. Now aware of the alternative Castiel, Dean wouldn't have been at all surprised to find that Cass took his coffee like Sam. Only problem was, Dean didn't have an original Cass to base this on –Cass never drank coffee. As far as Dean could remember, Castiel had only ever drunk hard liquors.

When the breakfast arrived Sam stared at the pile of cakes stacked in front of Castiel, a much smaller man with his fork and knife up at the ready. Sam couldn't help but think of the Trickster watching that, Castiel drowning the stack in syrup and happily enjoying it. He made a bit of a mess but that was of no consequence, he had several napkins to clean it up.

While the other two were distracted by their breakfasts, Cass smirked mischievously and glanced down at Dean's lap. He drops his hands to his lap and slides one over Dean's leg, gently brushing by as it goes. His gaze lingers on Dean's lips as he deftly opens the jeans in his way, his eyes daring Dean to pipe up and stop him. He knows Dean likes him and that's exactly what his expression is forcing on the older Winchester.

Dean smiled at his oldstyle breakfast –bacon and sausage, eggs, hashbrowns and a side of toast. The perfect accompaniment to his third cup of black coffee. Dean couldn't help a stifled laugh over the sugar filled breakfast that Cass was turning into a disaster zone before partaking of his own breakfast. Three bites in, he felt a relatively small hand snake over his thigh and nearly choked on his sausage. His eyes darted to Sam first, who didn't seem to notice, and then cast a sidelong glance at Castiel, and caught the mischievous glint in his eye.

Without being shoved back, Castiel's hand slides seamlessly into Dean's jeans and immediately beneath the soft cotton of his underwear. Long fingers wrap around the weight of the other man and Castiel gasps lightly, a shudder running down his spine. His pupils widening with lust he stares up at Dean with a new found vigour, his smile returns and he leans up to whisper into Dean's ear, "Very impressive, Dean. You have no idea what I could do with that."

Dean's not sure what about this scenario surprised him most –that Cass had a firm grip around his cock, that he let it happen, or the spine tingling, husky sex growl lingering in his ear. The old Cass could never do that to Dean, take control like that. Dean did nothing to shove Castiel away, a slight groan vibrated in his throat at the light friction on his quickly hardening cock.

Sam cocks an eyebrow in their direction from his eggs, "Getting comfy over there?"

An instinctive frown took over Dean's features –Sam had a talent for shutting down Dean's sexual endeavours. A mental recalculation brought Dean to the conclusion that maybe that was a good thing, and perhaps being exposed to the open air in a public diner in the late morning wasn't such a great idea. "Perfectly comfy. Why, you're not comfortable?" Dean shot back, hoping to divert attention. Sam was suspicious but that didn't make him all knowing. And from Dean's experience, Sam would sooner argue out an answer than look under the table.

Interrupted, Cass easily slid his hand free from Dean's hardening dick, his smile not leaving his face. "Comfy as can be, Sam."

Sam only raises the other eyebrow at the two of them, not quite sure what to make of the scene before him. "Alright then," He shrugs and goes back to his food, leafing through a newspaper he picked up from one of the abandoned tables nearby. His gaze dropping from them just in time to miss Castiel's wink in Dean's direction.

Throughout breakfast Dean was stuck on planning out a way to get Cass alone only to shut himself down again. It's not like the multitude of plans would have failed, but better judgement prevailed and recommended _not_ becoming involved with someone he didn't really know all that well. And yet there was definitely interest there... '_No, I'm not going there and I'm definitely not doing _that.'

Walking back to the Impala, Dean looked over at Sam, "Did you see the morning paper? There's another one dead." The best way that Dean had ever found of avoiding his problems was to bury himself in work or alcohol or both. Seeing as how it wasn't even noon yet, and they were already on a job, work prevailed –for now. "What do you say we go and check out the 'crime scene'?" Dean grinned from ear to ear. He knew that this Cass was more down-to-earth, and he'd probably be floored at the level of illegal activity these two partook of.

"Yeah," Sam's expression looked frighteningly calm about the situation, "That's three already Dean," His eyes hardened as he dropped himself into the passenger seat. "We've been here for a few days and we _still_ haven't saved any one of them." He rubbed his temples in a circular motion, "I just wish I could figure out the pattern..."

Cass pouted at Sam having wanted to sit upfront this time, when the younger Winchester took no notice Castiel clambered into the back seat. He shuffled behind Dean and stared at him through the rear-view mirror, seemingly content. "Are you guys talking about the stuff around your laptop?" He glanced at Sam curiously who only nodded in response. "Do you have any idea what it is?"

"No, otherwise we would have stopped it already." Sam grumbled angrily, more so aimed at himself than at Cass.

Cass nodded and sat back in his seat, getting the hint that he should probably drop the subject.

Dean pulled up to the motel and went for his duffle, pulling out a black suit –his usual FBI disguise. They had the time to dress up and make it look official, and majority of the local authorities already recognized them from the previous three slayings. "How do you like a man in a suit?" Dean shot at Cass, not really hoping to gain anything by it.

Castiel eyed him with a smile, licking his lips hungrily. "I'm not used to it but I'd bet you'll fill it out nicely."

"Get a room." Sam sneered as he trotted by. "Bathroom's mine!" he shouted excitedly, slamming and locking the door behind him.

"C'mon!" Dean protests out of sheer brotherly need. If they didn't pester and nag at each other, they'd probably kill one another. Dean watched the bathroom door swing shut, and had a good idea of approximately how long it took Sam to get himself into a monkey suit. Dean's eyes darted to Cass, and he discarded his button up pull over and peeled his t-shirt off to reveal the hardened muscles that lay beneath.

Castiel's breath hitched as he watched the thin shirt slip down to the floor, the chiselled chest revealed to him. _'Oh God...'_ His eyes connected with Dean's, the pure desire that lay there was even more breath-taking. _'This is an entirely different Dean, isn't it? Or does it count if it's the same person just a different reality? I don't think it counts.'_ His mind raced to answer these questions, knowing he didn't have enough time to contemplate them and get what he really wanted.

Taking an aggressive step forward, Dean leaned down to kiss Cass. This wasn't terribly well planned out –actually, it was to the contrary of what Dean had planned. But somehow he'd been left alone with Cass, with the sexed up swap out of Cass, and that intrusive bit in the restaurant was still fresh in Dean's mind. The kiss was longer than Dean expected of himself, and far hungrier. It wasn't just a sample, but a full blown acceptance. And Dean quickly found that he liked the shape of Cass' mouth, and even more so, the taste of it.

Since first feeling Dean's impressive size, tracing the taught muscles and getting a whiff of his scent, Castiel knew he wanted this. He wrapped his arms around the back of Dean's neck, giving into the man's aggressive advances, working his mouth strategically. Castiel would hook Dean on him; it was going to be all too easy after this.

Cass knew Dean was lost in the kiss and took this as his opportune moment to show Dean some real skill. Cass used Dean's hunger as a means to lead him back toward the bed; he spun them around, one hand gripped in the other man's hair while the second hand was pushing against much larger shoulders. In seconds they toppled back into Dean's sheets, Castiel perched over him. The angel sat upright, breaking the kiss with a seductive smile, his hips swaying elegantly. "Someone's worked up," he whispered, his husky voice vibrating low in his throat.

Dean had always had a tendency to wear his expression on his sleeve, and he couldn't help the slight pout of disappointment when the kiss was broken off. It was just so good, the feel of Cass, the taste of him, the smell of him. It was something different, and yet somehow it was something so familiar that Dean simply couldn't pull himself away. If he'd have thought about it then, Dean may have felt his heart begin to unfurl, bearing itself vulnerable to Castiel with an abused, but loyal trust. But those heavy, husky words ringing in his ear wouldn't let his mind dip past the surface. The physical and the now were far more demanding.

As Castiel swayed Dean could feel the slight grazing every time Cass moved, the nowhere close friction through his jeans that sent excited jolts up his spine. "Worked up is an understatement," Dean growled back, voice low and laced with desire. Dean raised his hands to Cass' hips, feeling the contours of his body and the edges of bone –this Cass was definitely attractive, but he seemed to have a lower body weight than Dean was used to seeing on that frame.

Cass simply slid backward off the bed, his knees slipping over the edge and to the floor in a single motion. His fingers hooked Dean's jeans, undoing them easily as he did earlier. They both know Sam will be back soon, they don't have time to do everything Cass wants to, so he focuses on Dean.

Quite unused to having another lead the way, Dean felt slightly out of sorts, but his curiosity and desire drowned that out. Propping up on his elbows to watch Cass work, Dean could feel his already hardened cock grow stiffer still with excitement.

Pants and underwear around Dean's ankles now, Castiel runs his tongue up the hardening length, tasting the difference immediately. It isn't bad, just different; he thinks he might even like it better but that's a passing thought. His tongue does most of the work at first, warming and wetting Dean's dick, teasing it thoroughly. He moans lightly as he wraps his lips around it, sucking the stiff flesh straight to the back of his throat.

Dean drops back to the bed, head rolling back. He can't help the grunts of approval that escape his throat, and for all the pleasure that Cass is exerting on him, Dean was grateful that's all it was. As the room began to sway Dean's eyes moved to screw shut; his world being reduced to the hot, wet sucking and stroking of his lower regions. "Oh _God_ Cass," Dean mewled with pleasure, unconsciously bucking his hips up, wanting more.

Castiel sucks Dean off with more skill than Dean's ever experienced, which is saying something since the older Winchester has been around.

Something inside him urges him to see this, demands that Dean know Cass' face, and he props himself up again to get a better look at that mouth on his skin. A strong hand snakes into Cass' hair, fingers coiling around into a fist. Dean's body tensed as he edged closer, his eyes rolled back in their sockets, and his head fell back in pleasure. "Cass," Dean let out a long sigh of his name as he came, his body finally loosening and unwinding indefinitely.

Cass swallows Dean's release; licking up the excess from the other man's softening cock. "Mmm," he wipes his mouth and licks his fingers, "Good, little greasier than I'm used to though." He winks, "Bad diet, Dean."

Dean can only half smile at that, exhaustion and complete ecstasy kept him happily sedated on the bed.

Just then the bathroom door opens; Sam wanders out, adjusting his tie. "You know I was thinking," He mutters, lifting his gaze from his fumbling hands only to meet Castiel's, who has run across the floor and into his personal space, taking up all of his vision.

"Thinking about what?" Cass is careful not to breathe into Sam's nose but pointedly staying in his line of sight until Dean's fixed himself up.

Dean panicked for a moment –he'd more than lost track of time, he'd completely forgotten Sam was even in the hotel. '_Thank you, Cass,_' Dean quickly pulled his pants back up, straightening himself out and looking half presentable.

Sam takes a defensive step back, successfully distracted from Dean, "Uh, well I was thinking that all the victims had one thing in common; they were all fans of the same band."

Castiel's attention is caught immediately, "What band?" Despite it being a separate world from his own, he can't help his interest.

"A local one, actually." Sam walks to his laptop and finds the website, crudely designed with several errors that he can see right off the top. "'_Bite Me'_, charming." He turns his computer to show the other two, "I noticed a symbol last time I saw the site but I couldn't figure it out. I remembered just now, it's a monster summoning sigil, ancient Greek."

"Greek? What the hell?" Dean was well accustomed to sigils and symbols, summoning and rituals, but there was something about Greek that bugged him. For one, there was that Lamia –and according to Bobby, those things never left Greece, or wherever they were from. And with all this Zeus stuff, legitimate Greek symbols were hard to come by. While Dean tried to refocus on the case, to get his mind off everything else like he usually did, he couldn't help his mind lingering on Cass. "The Greek summoned monsters?" Dean asked lamely, though he should've already known the answer.

Cass grabbed the laptop and looked at the background image, "I don't recognize it," he mumbled, annoyed.

Sam shrugged, "It might be nothing but you never know." He looked up at Dean, "Get ready, we should go."

Dean just smiled, grabbing the black suit that he should already have been in. "Yeah, I'll just do that." Dean skulked into the bathroom, still feeling the aftershocks of the best blowjob of his life.

* * *

><p>The drive there was short, and after just a few short days in this town, Dean had the roads nearly memorized. Dean continued to steal glances into the backseat to look at Cass, at that messy head of hair, and those soft, still slightly reddened lips. '<em>Eyes on the road, Dean. Eyes on the road<em>.'

The Winchester's flashed their badges, Castiel happily copying them with the other angel's fake I.D. They marched through the crime scene, past the yellow tape and into the house. Cass covered his mouth at the sight, the coroner had picked up the body but there was much leftover to paint the room. Sam frowned and shook his head, "They've all been torn to shreds," he looks at the familiar pattern of blood splatter, "And if I didn't know any better I'd say a giant snake had been here." He referred to a long, slithering trail that ran through the pools of blood on the floor.

Cass was distracted by the pictures on the walls, this person's family, friends, co-workers, crushes... all displayed on the mantel like trophies, prized possessions. This person was loved and would be dearly missed.

Dean perused the sights, part of him wondering how he and Sam had become so jaded to this. It was a stupid thought, really. They had seen shit like this every day of their lives, starting early on. They hunted demons, something that was previously thought rare (4-7 possessions a year), and those mothers were freaking impossible to take down. But the reaction that Cass had to this scene of carnage only served to remind Dean how broken he and his brother were. People were _supposed_ to be upset with blood and death, but not the Winchesters.

Cass' heart felt heavy as he slowly dropped himself onto the couch across from the display, his mind trailing back to his boyfriend. Was he missed? Would they think he was dead; would they search for him? His lingering gaze drifted over something that suddenly caught his eye, a long strip of dried skin.

"Echidna." He says simply.

Sam looked up, "What?"

"An ancient Greek monster, Echidna's a half snake, half woman creature that once gave birth to several other monsters."

"Well give me a hat and call me Indiana Jones. Why did it have to be snakes?" Ghost fever, a year or two back. Dean was sure if it was the heightened fear or just the snakes, but they still freaked him out.

Castiel chuckled slightly at Dean, the joke not lost on him; something the Winchester's also weren't used to. "Scared of snakes, baby?" He asks casually, forgetting briefly that this isn't his boyfriend; though the thought comes back to him immediately and he looks back at the floor. His baby wasn't here with him and he honestly didn't know if they'd ever be together again.

Cass lifted the skin, "I believe brute force will do the trick," he makes a face at the crusty bit of evidence, "How did they miss this?"

Sam shook his head, "No idea... But you're sure?"

"Yeah," Cass looked at Dean first then Sam again, "All fans of the same band with the same stupid summoning sigil on the covers of their CD's, we need to kill this thing before anyone else gets ripped apart."

Dean couldn't help his irony-filled laugh. "Alright, so maybe the fates do like us." Dean chuckled a bit more before explaining his inappropriately timed laughter. "I mean, we're in the middle of a case that we don't quite get, and then our angel gets swapped out for Castiel 2.0, who happens to be in a band and now we have killer CDs? How convenient." Dean didn't mean to poke fun or prod any wounds, it was simply a simple fact that he found somewhat hilarious.

Cass doesn't appear to be as humoured by the idea as Dean but he does smile a little, "Wow, a streak of good luck for you it seems. I'm guessing you don't get that a lot?"

Sam tries to stifle a laugh at that, "You could say that." He was slightly impressed with Cass' usefulness, it was more than just good luck; not only was he knowledgeable about things like this, he also understood the mentality of 'we have to save these idiots' asses'. "Where do we start?" He didn't want to admit it but he wasn't as well versed in the musical world as Dean and Cass apparently were.

The angel grins, "Well we find out whose selling local crap and then get the records of who bought it; then we take it from there."

Now it was Dean's turn to be impressed, "You know? You're pretty good at this sleuthing thing." Dean looked Cass over, "And to be honest, I thought you weren't going to be of much help. I like your thinking –we've gotta find a local record shop." Only Dean would still refer to records, he was, after all, only at the tail end of the tape cassette years.

Cass rolls his eyes at the man, "Why, because I'm not a hardcore 'heaven rules' angel? Or maybe it's because you're reflecting your own usefulness onto me; we both know you'll be too distracted with checking me out to do any work."

Sam laughs at his company, not being able to see his brother in any sexually compromising situation, let alone checking out another man.

Cass smiles at Sam then looks back at Dean with a wink, "Thanks though, I like how you think too."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

**I really hope everyone's enjoying the fic :) And no worries if you read it much later than other people, I don't mind reviews even if they're given to me months or years down the road XD Anyway thanks all, I'm not sure if the story's going where you want it to but it's going all the same. If anyone has any cool ideas, I'm open to hear them out. For example, give me an idea of what may be a decent cause for the switch of Cass' otherwise I fear I'll come up with something less dramatic than it should be lol**


	7. Chapter 7

Getting the records from the stores didn't take long, however the information revealed that all the people who had bought that shitty CD had already died, leaving them with absolutely nothing to go on... again. "AGH!" Sam slammed his laptop shut for the final time that day, "This is impossible..." he slumps over and begins messing up his own hair.

"Not impossible," Dean muses, the neck of a beer bottle already comfortably wedged between his thumb and two fingers. "What if we head back to the shop tomorrow and buy a crappy CD? Then we'll mark ourselves as targets, and lure the bitch out of hiding." No matter the circumstance, Dean always seemed to be the one willing to put his life on the line. "Of course, that'd have to be tomorrow when the shop opens up again."

Sam nods, slowly lifting his mussy head from the desk. "Yeah, that'll have to do I guess. That way we're the next targets and no one else gets hurt." He stretches, "Guess we're done for tonight then."

Cass sits up from Dean's bed, his eyes sparkling brightly, "Well if you're done for the night then let's let off a little steam, I saw a great place on the way back we could walk to for drinks." His smile widens.

Sam groans and lifts his head again, "Nearby that we can walk to?" He considers it, drinking wouldn't be good if they needed to be alert. Then again he had nothing to be alert for so there wasn't anything to be done anyway, no leads whatsoever meant he sits angrily in the motel room all night. "I don't know..."

Dean grinned, "C'mon Sammy, it'll be fun. It's not like we have anything better to do. It's time for some beer and relaxation." Whether or not Sam pointed out that that was _exactly_ what Dean was already doing was inconsequential, and Dean was quickly lacing up his boots.

Sam frowns, "But Dean... that's what you're doing." Dean knew his little brother well.

"Two against one, Sam!" Cass calls from the door. "It's two blocks from here, come on." Castiel gets his shoes on, waiting for the Winchester's. His hips sway eagerly before he bolts outside, taking in the cool breeze. Cass doesn't run ahead of the brothers though he does tug at them to hurry up, taking Dean's hand firmly and refusing to let go.

Approaching the building Sam can't help a grin, it isn't their usual bar scene; Castiel has taken them to a club. Sam glanced at the entrance price and realized that they were in luck; it was free entry for new comers. The club had already been open for a little while so there was hardly a line as well. "Let's go in," Sam joined Castiel's eagerness, if only to bug Dean. "Two against one." He smirks at his older brother as he enters the dreaded club.

Dean looked up at the flashing lights, the younger crowd of teens pooling around the exit and jabbering on about nothing. He could already hear the pounding bass and he was still standing in the parking lot. Dean groaned with disappointment. He wanted a _bar_, not a club. Not something rave, just a nice bar with pool and poker. "You've got to be kidding me." Dean grumbled and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

As soon as Castiel's in the door he feels the beat of the music and can't help but move to it, like it has him in a trance. His hips catching the familiar tempos and moving with it, his heart pounding with the bass that's sending his mind into a numbed state. Everything feels familiar again, like he's home. Cass knows where the Winchester's will be, he needs to break away for a moment.

Sam went straight for the bar for a drink, the reason he'd come. He looked back at the dance floor, a phenomenon he'd never really explored, even in college. Yet, despite his lack of knowledge on it, he can tell that upon entrance, Castiel has taken control of it without difficulty. "I've never imagined Castiel could be so... fluid." He says out loud, whether Dean hears him or not is another story. Sam's pretty sure Dean's at the bar with him, neither of them were very adept in this sort of place.

From the outside looking in it appeared as though Dean had followed Sam straight to the bar. In reality Sam could've been entirely invisible –Dean _needed_ a drink to survive this place. The smell of spilled drinks mixed in the air with sweat from the dance floor and the smoke from a joint. Dean could've sworn that there was a lingering stink of sex, but that could've been him. The bustling bodies left no space to speak of and Dean could barely hear a word that Sam said. Looking back over his shoulder at Cass and nodded, "Fluid's one word for it." Dean turned to the bar tender, "I'll just have a beer, don't matter which."

Castiel captures the club like he always does, catching the DJ's attention, and sever others' as well. Everyone wants a piece of him by the end of his second song though he managed to escape to the stage where the DJ was hanging out.

"What's your name?" The DJ asks, his gold-studded teeth shining in Cass' direction.

He knows his way around a DJ booth; the microphone is always in the same place. Casually leaning toward it as if it's the most natural thing, "Castiel." His voice washes over the crowd like a drug, digging into their minds in a way they'll never forget him. Castiel has an air of confident professionalism up on a stage, he knows how to hold the crowd's attention and he knows how to carry himself. "May I ask a favour of you?" He smiles charmingly at the DJ whose grin only widens in agreement as Cass whispers in his ear.

"Special treat, people," The man calls into the mic, "Castiel, our angel for the night, is going to perform for us."

Dean's head turns in the direction of the dance floor, still nursing his beer. "Does he go around telling everybody he's an angel?" Dean feels a twang of nostalgia, of the time he and Castiel posed as FBI agents in their hunt for Raphael's vessel. The truth was not the best answer.

The crowd sounds enthusiastic, though Cass knows they can do better. He takes an extra microphone and nods at the DJ, a smirk on his lips. In seconds the sound track to an upbeat, not as pop-y song begins to play; Cass knows getting Dean's attention will be impossible singing a shitty song.

Cass takes the mic, and for anyone thinking this was going to be some lame karaoke sing along they were dead wrong. Dean was floored by Castiel's stage presence. He could tell that Cass could move, but this man seemed to live and breathe music, like the beat was pumping in his veins. When those beautiful stubble framed lips opened and Cass began to sing, it wouldn't have mattered if he were moving or standing still.

Sam's eyes widen, "Well what do you know..." he mutters, glancing at Dean for a reaction.

"Damn..." Dean muttered, astounded at Cass' singing voice. Never had he imagined that man singing; nothing could have been further from his mind. Dean found himself thoroughly entranced, mesmerized by the sound. Only just before the song ended did Dean realize; "I hate that song."

Dean looked at Sam, "So do you think he went to the club just so he could ditch us? It's been almost half an hour, and he hasn't even come over." Dean knew how to play this game, he'd done it with every chick he'd ever picked up: interested or no, you never give out too much info. Yeah, he wanted Cass, and yeah, he found him attractive. Cass did that performance for himself, and Dean couldn't give him too much attention over it. Cass must've seen him watching, but being needy wasn't Dean's style, not intentionally anyway.

Dean indeed knew the game well, however he didn't know Castiel's game. This Cass is used to getting what he wants; not only that, he's used to getting attention from Dean. The angel enjoys himself on the floor, yes; however he continually glances back for Dean. This is the way he caught his boyfriend the first time, someone who was convinced he _hated_ the lead singer of _Pleasure My Angel_. This Dean... this cryptic, beast of a man, didn't so much as give him a second look whereas his Dean couldn't stop staring.

Castiel's heart fell again, _'I miss my baby...'_ He wipes his eyes and trots through the crowd again, though they aren't as willing to just let him pass by. An angelic forceful shove made a pathway for him as he approached the boys at the counter, they'd only been in the building for half an hour but Cass had had enough of it. He wasn't the same partier he used to be, he wasn't the man who would wake up on a bus one morning and hunt out a club to dance at immediately. He wanted his lover, he wanted Dean; he wanted his friends, he wanted his family.

The music is loud, and when it comes to conversation it is overpowering. But Dean was beginning to find that it just wasn't loud enough, not to drown out his mind. He wanted to find Cass out on that floor, drag him back, and give him his first goddamn drink of the night. He wanted to put his hands on those hips, maybe even dance with him. Some odd sliver of jealousy wanted to punch out the other people dancing near him, and reclaim him. But the game demanded he stay put, and his masculine pride demanded he stay straight. Dean realized he wasn't too good with meeting demands.

Cass tugged gently at Dean's jacket, just to make sure he had the hunter's attention, "I'm going back to the motel." Even though the club is louder than all hell, Castiel's voice still breaks through. He smiles sadly and kisses Dean full on the lips, his heart beating erratically as his mind spins.

The tug at Dean's jacket brought a wicked grin to his face: he'd won; Cass had to come back to the bar. When turning to face Cass, Dean was met with what he thought to be a very pleasant kiss. His hands came up to Cass' hips, nudging him closer, feeling Cass' body near his. It was exhilarating, and Dean really didn't care if Sam wanted to poke fun, because Sam didn't have what he had.

Cass breaks the kiss and leans up to Dean's ear, "I love you." He whispers, a stray tear dripping from his jaw-line onto Dean's cheekbone. In an instant the angel vanishes.

It's only when Castiel backs away that Dean sees the hurt etched into his face, the pain that he was wearing like a second skin. Dean hadn't won the game –Cass wasn't playing. That dance number, the wanting to get out and have fun, it was for Dean, to spend time with him and get closer. Dean could've kicked his own ass for his stupidity. "Cass don't-" But the angel was already long gone. Dean turned a hurt expression to Sam.

Sam blinks incredulously, "What happened?" he practically shouts, "Did he bring us here just to ditch us?" He asks the same question as Dean though unintentionally, thus proving the club's music is much too loud once again. He motions to get out of the building, since they're no longer in the company of someone who wants to be there.

Dean nodded quickly, the club scene was over. Dean rose and followed Sam to the door, now trying to figure out how to fix whatever it was he shattered into pieces. '_You know what you shattered into pieces_,' he chastised himself, '_his heart_.' He scolded himself for being so dramatic. How was any of this his fault?

"Okay, I think this has something to do with you." Sam's guessing out loud now, "So you go back to the motel, I'll pick up beers or something. Call me when you guys are done." Sam pats Dean's shoulder and then heads down the street in a different direction; toward the liquor store.

"Yeah, this is definitely my fault," Dean mutters, accidently betraying how much he really knew. To Sam, Cass' last contact before leaving was Dean, so there must be something there. In actuality, Dean had played keep away with Cass not giving him any attention or acceptance, had indulged enough to receive a blow job, but never reciprocated in anyway. Yeah, it wasn't 'something to do with' it was downright 'fault.'

* * *

><p>Castiel sheds his clothing and pulls on one of Dean's shirts, long enough to cover himself. He crawls into the bed he knows he woke up in, the one Dean will be returning to. He loves to sing, he loves to dance, but he loves Dean more. If he can't have the thing he wants most, the thing he needs, then what's the point in doing the rest of it? Cass sobs into the pillows, his hands clutching the blanket close to himself.<p>

Dean sighed heavily, having no idea what he'd say. Part of him knew that his typical mistake was playing it too tough, pushing people away when he needed them to come closer. He wasn't sure why he did it but he did. When all he wanted to do was forgive Sam, he'd shut up and give him the cold shoulder. And that was all too common. God knows how many times he'd let Castiel down in the past. Dean took a deep breath before putting the key in the lock, trying to prepare for the worst.

What Dean finds is far from what he's used to. When he messes up with Sam, Sam gets mad and then there's a fight. Something Dean can do, can act out against, and something that makes him feel like it's not his fault, and he hadn't screwed up that bad. But Cass... Dean found Cass crying on the bed, his small frame was visibly shaking from the body-wracking sobs that tore from his throat. Dean felt his heart settle in his gut.

Cass heard the door open and the sound of biker boots on the dirty floor, he knows it's Dean. The silence that begins their confrontation tells him that Dean is taking in the sight, not sure where to start. The angel scrunches up further, clinging to the blanket as if it comforted him in any way.

"Cass," Dean started walking across the room, getting the distinct feeling that Cass didn't want him there. "Cass, I'm sorry." Dean sat at the side of the bed. He could fix this, he knew he could. He just needed to set things straight.

Castiel knows that the best thing for him to do is stay silent and let Dean talk, just let the conversation flow out and see where it goes. However, he's been hurt by Dean's actions, his negligence. _'It isn't like he _has_ to pay attention to you; you aren't his boyfriend.'_ This thought sobers his mind, forcing any anger he had back down. Dean sounds honest, like he really is sorry.

Dean put a hand to Cass' shoulder to still him, stop him from shaking so much. He rubbed his arm, warming him and hopefully conveying comfort. "Back at the club, I really liked your performance. Truly, I did. I forgot where I was, what I was listening to. Your voice is incredible..." Dean trailed off, wanting to comment on his body, but finding that it sounded ill-placed and inappropriate in this conversation.

Cass rolls over now, his body has calmed down and he feels he can look up at Dean again. He wants to speak too, though he knows that doing so may stop Dean from speaking all together. _'If he doesn't get feedback he'll close off, I have to say something.'_ Castiel places a gentle hand on Dean's, a small smile aimed up at the larger man to assure him the comfort is appreciated. "Thank you, Dean." He whispers, sitting upright again.

"I wanted you, Cass. I really, _really_ wanted you. I thought if I showed too much interest, you'd leave. Don't ask me to defend that thought, I couldn't even begin to find a rational reason why that might be, but that's how I was thinking. I didn't want..." Dean fought with the words, but the last thing he needed was to close off and defend himself. That would only push Cass away, and he'd already warned himself not to pull that crap.

"I didn't want to be rejected." Dean finally fought the words out. He suddenly felt very vulnerable, like someone would stab him in the back any second, like he'd laid himself far too bare. His instincts told him to drop the subject, abandon ship, and run. Close off, fight back and protect what little he had left. With that one sentiment, those few words, Dean had admitted that he wanted Cass to the point where rejection would be painful, that he wasn't after sex like any other pick-up game, that he may have feelings invested in this. Dean looked at Cass, just past the top of the covers.

"I don't know how you feel about me and your Dean," talking about himself in the third person was just wrong, but this wasn't truly in third person, it really was another him. And if this other him was half as needy as this Cass, Dean had a feeling he and himself wouldn't get along. A punch in the face might smarten the bastard up.

"But I really like you, and maybe while you're here..." Fighting instinct was only getting him so far. Dean was nearly shaking with his own lack of confidence. It would be so much easier to shut down and stop pursuing this. But if he did that, then neither of them would get what they wanted, and Cass would only cry more. And Dean _really_ didn't want Cass to cry anymore.

Cass takes Dean trailing off at the end as his cue. He can see Dean's involuntary convulsions; small as they are they're still visible to him. Cass has never seen Dean so nervous, so unsure of himself, not even when they first started going out. Dean pursued him just as much as Cass flirted with Dean, it was mutual. This Dean was scared of people, interaction, but mostly relationships. "Sweetheart," he wraps his arms comfortingly around Dean's, he isn't sure how the tables turned but he knows they have. "If I was going to reject you, I never would have been so flirtatious, and I definitely wouldn't have blown you."

Dean would have described his heart as being in his hands or on his sleeve, but he found it more accurate to say it was with Castiel. Cass had a very good point, and somehow Dean figured he already knew that. So then why the game? Why make Cass come to him, when he already had –first? Nerves, maybe. Or it still had something to do with the fact that not only was this a man, and not only was he not human, this was Cass.

Cass leans back now, a smile gracing his soft lips, "To me, you're still Dean. You aren't exactly the same man but you're still him and I'm still in love with you. In my opinion, if you can find your partner in an alternate reality and still love who they are, it's true love." He leaned in, placing his forehead against Dean's and brushed his lips by Dean's, though not yet kissing them.

The taunt of a kiss was something Dean barely resisted. Cass was speaking, he had something to say. Important stuff that needed to be conveyed. And Dean wasn't even sure he caught it all. He wanted so badly to close the distance between them, to feel those lips on his. Fighting this urge came first, and then listening to Cass after. The sway of Cass' slender hips, his significant lack of clothing, and the tender tone of his voice was an odd mix. Dean could feel that it wasn't strictly lust that drove Castiel's actions, and wondered if it was right of him to take advantage of this.

"I'm crazy about you; I would never hurt you like that. Promise." Cass whispers before closing the kiss; pressing his body passionately against Dean's, he climbs out from the safety of his blanket.

Still kissing him, Cass elegantly slides a leg over Dean's lap, resting it on the other side of the man's hips. Castiel deepens the kiss, now straddling Dean in nothing but the man's t-shirt and revealing this fact to him. A light shudder runs down Cass' spine causing little bumps to sprout all over his exposed skin, he feels the rough fabric of Dean's jeans scuff his dick lightly and lets out a low moan. Cass repeats the sensation by pressing himself down again then slowly lifting himself back up. He's half distracted by his swelling cock which results in a messy kiss, his tongue tracing the insides of Dean's mouth and slipping out every now and then.

The kiss is exhilarating, and Dean's surprised how much of a reaction such a simple action draws out of him. He'd been around, women of all shapes and a slightly smaller variety of sizes –he did have _some_ standards. Action was a regular part of Dean's diet, right up there with hunting, putrid stenches, and bacon cheeseburgers. A little kiss shouldn't send him off the rails like a prepubescent teen, but somehow Cass managed it. Dean's hands refused to stay still, refused to be that dumb lump with nothing to do. His hands rested back on Cass' hips, a comfortable and seemingly natural position. Dean could feel the sway, the muscles working and twisting; Castiel's lithe frame eager for something...

Castiel leans back for a moment, his thigh muscles still enthralled in the slow humping motion, his blue eyes almost consumed in the blackness of his pupils. "Fuck me, Dean." He whispers roughly, his breathing hot and at an increased rate. He grinds his hips downward again though this time when he comes back up he readjusts his right leg to rest between Dean's thighs. He presses his knee up repeatedly, roughly massaging the sensitive area. Cass' expression is difficult to make out in the dim lighting yet his lust emanates from him and is quite catching. "Come on baby, fuck me." He repeats this time with more urgency but it's more of a demand than a question. He wants it; therefore Dean is going to give it to him.

Only when Cass finally makes contact with Dean's groin does he realize just how hard he is. All of Cass' taunting and teasing, his shamelessly revealed lower areas and _that voice_. How could Dean have never before appreciated that stunning gravel baritone? '_Uhh, because it shattered glass and nearly shredded your eardrums_?' How the hell was logical thought still around?

And then it occurred to Dean where the source of his confusion lay: Castiel was making all the moves. Castiel woke up in a state of loving Dean, Castiel wanted to blow Dean –and did. Castiel taunted in the breakfast diner; and in the club? Cass again. Dean played keep away, but never advanced, not once. And now Cass was perched on top of him, telling him to act. '_Oh fuck that.'_

Dean leaned forward, kissing Cass roughly on the mouth, digging a hand in Cass's mussy hair and pulling him close, disallowing any breaking away or protest. Dean broke it off when _he_ wanted to, and not a moment sooner. Dean rested Castiel's head against his own, still guiding his head with his grip in Cass' hair. Breathing heavily, Dean's ragged response was something to the effect of "You don't need to tell me again." Dean was never a particularly romantic type, he couldn't give pet names to people that didn't come easy. Castiel was Cass, not baby or sweetie.

Cass moaned eagerly into Dean's mouth, his heartbeat fluctuating like a butterfly's wings. The hand gripping his hair was enough to harden him, but Dean's sudden interest had him feeling almost dizzy. The world around him seemed to slip by, nothing was in the room but Dean and himself, and possibly a bed but it could've been a pile of newspapers and he wouldn't have noticed. Dean was taking charge like Cass had never experienced it before, forceful, a little rough, and showing him who's boss. Castiel rubbed against Dean more fervently, his breaths sucked sloppily through tiny breaks in their kiss.

Dean's grip on Cass' waist loosened, his hands sliding up and pulling his shirt up and over Cass' head. Dean's hand then made their slow, exploratory way down Cass' lithe torso. The frame and firm skin of a naked man was foreign to Dean. With sexual intent, Dean saw Cass's body in a whole new light. It felt amazing, and Cass' mastery of his muscle movement was a promising thing. Finally finding Cass' bare waist, Dean lifted the smaller man and flipped the two over, now pinning Cass on the bed.

"You know, Sam said to call him when we're done, so really..." Dean's hands were wandering again, exploring again. His eyes held that animalistic glint of hunger and desire, "we can take all the time we want." Dean's head dropped and he started a teasing nibble at Cass's hip, nowhere close to where he needed to be, but excitedly working his way up to it –or rather, down to it.

On his back now, Cass stared lustfully up at the weight above him, pushing him into the softness of the bed. Dean's hands sliding over his skin sent shivers throughout his body, making everything sensitive to the other man's rough hands. Cass' gaze lingered on the top of Dean's head, his breathing catching in his chest with every nip closer to his aching erection. He can't help the light thrusting motions his hips are making toward the source of friction that is Dean, a low groan rumbling deep in his throat with need. He whines a little at the teasing though he enjoys it thoroughly, every little thing Dean does is like brand new.

Dean's hands slipped under Cass, placing a firm grip on his buttocks. His nibbling led him down Cass' hip, and he followed the treasure trail to the eager weight that stood tall, weeping with desire. Once confronted with the task, Dean wasn't sure if he was fully up to it. He'd never placed another man's dick in his mouth before, never even considered the thought. How to proceed? '_Well, what do I like_?' With that in mind, and hours worth of porn know-how, Dean set to it. His mouth crept over the head of Castiel's waiting erection, saliva mixing with the precum and moistening the length of Cass' cock as Dean slid his lips down, fitting as much as he could.

Castiel cries out as soon as the warmth of Dean's mouth washes over him, his back arching slightly. "Ohhh Dean..." he breathes, his words ending with a whimper, a sort of compliment to Dean's efforts. "God... ah, nnn..." Cass tosses his head from side to side, his muscles contracting with every force of suction, his dick quivering with all the anticipation. His toes curl in and relax repeatedly, eyes squeezed shut and his hand down in Dean's semi-short hair, torn between pulling and massaging his hands through it.

Dean took longer to find a rhythm than he'd ever admit to, but eventually it came, and once he had the hang of it, the action seemed natural –somehow normal. Cass tasted astoundingly different than any woman, and Dean astounded at how much he was enjoying this. Not just the sex, and not the peculiar fact that it was with a man, but _pleasing_ someone else, that was somehow more satisfying to Dean at this very moment.

"Oh baby you've got it!" Cass gasps when he feels Dean hit his stride; the power behind the man's tongue is amazing. The view Castiel had of Dean, down between his legs and pleasing him, putting in so much effort, it was more than Cass could have asked for. His boyfriend always had a certain technique to getting him off, he knew what Cass liked. This was like their first time, fumbling over one another's bodies, trying to find the sweet spot, the little turn-ons.

Cass was a wonderful source of feedback, every stroke of Dean's fingers and every flick of his tongue earned him a response, some gratifying, some telling him he was just barely off. Cass was possibly one of the most vocal partners Dean had ever slept with, and it didn't stop there. Cass' legs over his shoulders was a pleasant surprise, he couldn't help the grip of ecstasy over his body and Dean's lips pulled into a smile around Castiel's rock hard erection, just before climax.

Cass' hips bucked up with the sensations, sharp exclamations leaving his dried out mouth. He could feel the edge where he'd plummet into an orgasm fast approaching, the build-up driving him insane. Then it hit, his throat felt scratchy as he cried out again, this time much louder. His body is wracked with the ecstasy, legs flexing and closing in on Dean's shoulders.

As it subsided, Cass watched to see what Dean did with the new taste in his mouth, his eyes half-lidded in curiosity.

Dean's mouth was flooded with the warm, semi-sweet fluid. Just as he was unprepared to approach, he hadn't the slightest on how to proceed now. If he knew anything, there was nothing less attractive than a spitter. Dean sloshed the cum around in his mouth, getting a better taste for it, as if he were memorizing it, before swallowing. He watched Cass watch him, and he felt another rush of blood head south.

Cass clumsily grabbed at Dean's shirt, tugging until his partner climbed up to meet him in another kiss, just as passionate as the last. He ran his hands up the inside of the cloth, feeling the hardened muscles beneath. A smile curls up the edges of his mouth as he gets to know the firmer flesh, desire growing in him quickly. His hands trace the defined creases to the folds of Dean's jeans, deftly undoing them one more time. Cass hooks the edges of the shirt Dean's wearing and pulls it over his head, to match himself.

Cass lifts his arms and wraps them around Dean's neck, pulling him into another kiss, pressing their bare chests together. The kiss is hungry and desperate, and as Dean kisses back, pushing and possessing, he grabs at Cass out of pure need, out of a desperate desire to be closer with him.

Castiel is entirely naked and now so is Dean, the angel squirming beneath Dean's warmth for more contact, more of Dean for himself. He trails kisses down Dean's jaw and neck, licking at his collarbone. If Dean was offered the choice to stay that way forever he would've gladly taken it, to have everyday be filled with this sort of passion and need for another living person.

Cass raises his head again, his eyes showing much more than lust in that private moment. The two lock gazes and what Dean finds there in Castiel's eyes sends a shiver down his spine. The angel stares into Dean like he can see his soul; adoration and an unyielding love define his gaze. Cass wants Dean, body and soul, for all eternity. Every version of Dean must belong to every version of Castiel, and vice versa.

This was a deep and profound expression of need and trust. Dean was stunned.

Cass knows how hard Dean is, he can feel it pushing against him like a sharp reminder. Not that Cass needed a reminder, he intended to get what he wanted, and he wanted Dean to fuck him. He nuzzles his cheek against Dean's, scratching him lightly with the unshaven stubble.

For a moment Cass' appearance seems to flicker, but he remains in the same spot as he had before. However the difference now is that he has a bottle in his hand, one Dean might recognize as lube. Cass' eyes remain fixed on Dean's as he slowly shifts his hips to a more desired position and opens his legs wider. A pleading look on the angel's face only added to his appeal as he nudged Dean's hand with the bottle, urging him to take charge again.

Dean eyes the lube, wondering briefly what he was supposed to do with that before realizing Cass' intent. Dean snatched the item from Cass' hand and quickly set to prep work. One precluding finger, cold and moist from the application, probed at Cass' entrance hesitantly before pushing in. Slow exploratory movements defined the first moments of Dean's digit intrusion before a second joined. Dean worked the tight anal muscle loose before entering a third finger.

Castiel moans ardently, bucking at the feel of all three of Dean's fingers pressed inside him. Dean's being so gentle; for Castiel who's had a dick shoved inside him before, several times, it's kind of cute. He whines impatiently now, wanting all of Dean, all at once. His legs rhythmically squeeze the form just slightly lower than him, still prepping him for penetration.

Pulling his finger out and placing his hand down on the bed for support, Dean looked up to Cass quickly, checking if this was right. He found no reason to believe otherwise, and pushed deep into the soft flesh beneath him.

Dean's gaze tells Castiel he's confused or a little nervous. Cass knows Dean's done anal, there's no way he wouldn't have, right? Someone so tough, so masculine certainly would have done it by now.

Castiel tried to keep himself at bay, no need to get overly excited in the first thrust. However Dean was bigger than he was used to, and much harder. Cass let out a shrill cry as he's suddenly filled, his body shuddering with the tingling pleasure that coursed through him. His legs wrap around Dean's waist instinctively, using their strength to pull himself closer with each downward push to get it deeper.

A low, exasperated breath escaped Dean's lips as he buried his full length in Castiel's squirming form. It felt so tight, so _good_. It took a great deal of control not to thrust away with reckless abandon. Dean tried to take it slow, tried to ensure Castiel was alright with this. '_Of course he is, he asked for it._' Dean took the mental cue and picked up the pace.

The slower pace was torture for Castiel, his back arching desperately as his pleading whimpers increase. Then suddenly he's pounded repeatedly, Dean's picked up the hint. "AH! YES!" Cass screams along with several other expletives, "Harder! Harder!" He demands though the tone used implies pleading. Cass lets Dean slam into him, listening to the slapping sounds of their skin making contact.

Cass feels himself harden again, full and heavy, ready to blow one more time. He bucks his hips in rhythm with Dean, his fingers clawing at the larger man's back as his prostate is pummelled mercilessly. "Ohhh Dean... I'm gonna..." he moans breathlessly, "I'm gonna come again... Ah! Dean!" Cass' head flies backward, ramming into the sheets as his hot, sticky release soaks the space between them, their chests rubbing together in it. His muscles spasm as he rolls through his ecstasy, eyes falling behind his eyelids.

It's over, they're both spent and laying in a messy heap but they're both happy. Castiel smiles warmly under Dean's weight, his arms protectively around his alternate boyfriend. "You're amazing," he whispers, exhausted.

The door swings open and a distinct 'Oh god' is heard before it's quickly shut again, fast and heavy footsteps retreating away from the motel. Castiel laughs before rolling his head to the side, time to sleep.

Dean's eyes rolled to the door, but he was simply too tired to care. Sam had caught them, simple as that. His baby brother would spare no expense in poking fun at Dean's sexuality, especially considering his long history of homophobia. Whatever, it was better this way. "Serves him right," Dean mutters absently. He wraps his arms around Cas and drags them both further onto the bed so they could collapse into sleep. Tomorrow would be filled with painting a bull's eye on their backs and waiting out an Echidna attack, but for now, blissful, satisfied, sticky sleep was the oh-so inviting present.

* * *

><p>Morning comes and Dean is pleasantly surprised to find Cas still unconscious in his arms. The guy had so much energy last night it was almost tough to keep up. He was really into it, and so vocal. Dean brushed some stray locks of mussy hair back and admired Cas' slumbering face. He looked so peaceful, not at all like he should be fighting a war to save the Earth.<p>

It dawned on Dean that they could be in some real trouble. Without Cas, who would stop Raphael? What was stopping that dick of an angel from popping the box and releasing Lucifer and Michael back onto the Earth for an apocalyptic battle royale? The last of Cas' forces were probably being snuffed out without him there and the consequences of his actions would probably make themselves known soon.

But there was nothing that could be done about that until it hit them, and the Winchester brothers would deal with it like they always did, or go down swinging. Dean slid out of the bed and headed for the shower –they had work to do, and his morning-after etiquette was sorely lacking from years of fuck-and-leave activity.

Showered and dressed, Dean placed a call to Sam, "Hey, where the hell are you? We've got work to do. And I'd say we'd meet at the record shop... only you have my _**car**_."

Sam had answered immediately and waited for Dean to freak out, "Cool your jets, Dean. I'm outside the motel _in_ your damn car." He groans as he sits up, his limbs stiff from scrunching into the backseat. He's used to sleeping in the Impala, though it just never gets any easier.

"Well you could've just said so," Dean huffed into the receiver, as though Sam were supposed to know these things.

Moments later he's walking lazily into the room, his hair a mess and eyes half open. With a yawn he wanders straight to the bathroom, not looking at the mess on the bed.

Cass stretches sleepily; his slender form shuddering slightly from the spasm of his waking muscles. He sighs happily, his hand drifting over the sheets for the other body that's supposed to be there. It isn't. He sits up abruptly, "Dean?" he isn't used to the 'fuck and leave' mentality, Dean's always there the next morning, always. He spots his lover across the motel and relief falls over him, "Jerk!" Cass calls out, throwing one of the pillows.

Dean flinched when the pillow hit him, if for no other reason than surprise. He looked back at the bed a took a moment to realize his folly.

"Can't stay in bed 'til I wake up after our first time?" He frowns playfully, "Or maybe wake me when you get up? Maybe I wanted to shower too." He crawls from the sheets and darts across the room to Dean, wrapping his arms around the man's broad shoulders and kissing him passionately, not caring he's still naked. "Good morning." He whispers sweetly, nuzzling Dean's cheek.

Dean's not sure he can take all this as 'playful', Cass' attitude. The pillow is fun, the naked scramble across the room raises an eyebrow and something a little lower, but this all seems far from Cas behaviour. Dean shrugs off the nagging feeling and kisses Cass, "Good morning."

"AH! Damn it guys!" Sam shields his eyes after waltzing back into the room, "Blankets, for pete's sake, blankets!"

"Sorry Sam," Cass giggles as he trots into the bathroom, "Dean I need clothes again!" He shouts after closing the door, "Get me some, please?"

Dean can't help but smile at the unashamed naked saunter of his... he dare not say partner, and lover seemed off too. Whatever Cass was too him, Dean was really liking it.

Sam sighs and looks at Dean, he's not sure what to say yet but he decides to settle, "So, you and Cass huh? Cute."

Dean thought he would've put a little more thought into what to say to Sam, he'd known it was coming long enough, but no retaliation was ready. Dean just looked at Sam, "What, you didn't know?" That ought to throw him for a loop. '_Keep the jokes coming_.'

"Not really," Sam admits, half ignoring Dean's attempt at comedy, "I didn't see you as the... well, type I guess." He packs up and gets ready for the day, fighting a half-snake woman may end up being the highlight of his day after so much exposure to naked men.

With his refreshed arm candy in tow, and poutily seated in the back once more, the group set out to the record shop. "So, how many of these things do you think they produced?" Dean shot to Sam, back on the job. He really didn't want to ignore Cass, but this wasn't his thing. "They'll definitely have some left... seems like a real waste, spending hard earned cash on this crappy music."

Sam smirked, "Yeah well we can't exactly steal them, Dean. I mean, bands have to make money too, even terrible ones."

Cass sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and staring out the window. This wasn't exactly his scene though he enjoyed just being around Dean, which was supposedly worth it. Supposedly, assuming the guy wasn't ignoring him.

Without fail they buy the shitty CD and find a decent, out of the way place to dispatch the monster that will soon be after them. Sam had double checked that no one else bought it that day before walking out the door; it'd suck to know that they weren't going to be the first targets after it was too late.

'A decent, out of the way place' meant an empty warehouse down by the docks where they dropped the CD case in the middle of the room. "Now what?" Cass muttered.

"We wait." Sam replied easily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I freaking hate waiting," and what Dean said was true –he was in it for the fight, and the stakeout always killed him. He remembered first waiting for Castiel to arrive, anxiously poking at the table beneath him with Ruby's knife, nagging Bobby as to the results of the summoning incantation. And then there was Cass, in all his inhuman, awkward glory. Eyes fixated, mind purposeful.

It didn't take long; the beast had grown greedy after feasting so often in the past week. Sam's ears burned when he heard a sound that resembled something dragging itself across the floor seamless, like a snake. He glanced at Dean and mouthed 'it's here', his eyes shifting to the side of the room he was sure the noise came from.

Dean nodded his understanding to Sam, and double checked the shot gun in his hands. He looked around the cave, silent and waiting. Finally, they get to kill something.

As expected, a half-woman, half-snake creature was visible now. However she was directly behind Castiel, who was oblivious to its position. "CASS!" Sam shouted, his gun snapping up and aiming above at the much taller, much larger monster behind him, not hesitating to shoot.

Castiel let out a short shriek as he ducked and darted forward, spinning on his heel to see the beast that seemed to take a liking to him.

"Cass! Stay down!" Dean shouted directions like orders, booking it past Castiel, concerned to whether the girlish shriek indicated any sort of harm. Dean's eyes narrowed at the snake-woman, and found himself unwilling to crack a joke at her naked torso, or even admire it. "C'mon, you ugly bitch!"

At first, Cass stood and watched the Winchester's attack the thing, ducking and mostly avoiding the fight. Yet again, Castiel forgot he could use his angelic prowess. He smacked his forehead, sliding his hand down his face, "Der..." He mumbles before running back toward Echidna, his eyes flashing white for a second as he reached into his grace.

Sam shields his eyes as a bright light blindingly fills the room, when he lowers his arm he sees that the beast is dead, a darkened silhouette where it used to be lined the floor. "Wow, thanks Cass."

Castiel sighs lightly, "You said it, wow." He laughs a little; he hasn't come across many monsters like this, only demons. Though demons are hideous creatures, so he isn't terribly stunned after his first monster introduction. "Sorry, I tend to forget I can do that."

Sam smirks, "Yeah, would've been useful before we wasted ammo."

"Shut up," Cass sneers playfully, waving his hand at the younger Winchester.

"I can't believe you just wasted that thing," Dean lowered his gun, forgetting that Cass 2.0 is still an angel, and not just some slim sex-crazed thing. Dean was fairly certain that he should _never_ say that to Cass' face.

"So... I guess we need to research this dimension swap now huh?" Back to the research. Sam did the books, and even though Dean was fully capable of spending several hours in a library –and had done so on more than one occasion; it didn't make him like it any more.

Cass nodded, "Yeah, looks that way." He had no idea where to start.

"I'll call Bobby." Sam mutters as he pulls out his phone, hitting a single button; Bobby's on speed dial.

As Sam spoke to the older hunter and Dean bemoans the idea of researching; Castiel feels a light gust of wind. "Hello, Castiel." He spins around to see a man in a suit, smiling down at him. "Raphael sends his regards."

"Raphael?" Cass manages to sputter out before the angel across from his lashes out with a sleek white blade. Castiel screams as it makes contact, despite his move to dodge it. The gash across his chest isn't fatal but it isn't healing immediately either.

Sam looked up from his phone call, "Oh fuck me..." he muttered, fumbling over himself for a weapon. There just _has_ to be some love in the world for him, just has to be. He remembers the holy oil is outside in the trunk of the car and he's out the door in a flash.

Castiel kneels on the ground, lucky for him the angel has a boastful and prideful side, he hasn't aimed to hit the trembling form a second time yet. "I've made a mark on the great Castiel, you aren't so tough."

"CASS! NO!" Dean bolts, weapon or no weapon, plan or no plan. While Sam's mind kicks into high gear, Dean's heart feels like it's been fed through one. This Cass may have wasted an Echidna, but he wasn't up for any of this angel war crap. Dean remembered dreading this last night, thinking he'd wait for it to come to him. He was painfully unaware that it would attack this Cass. Dean drops to Cass' side, between the wounded angel and the attacker.

Cass has never been injured in this way before, something has cut down to his core, scarred his soul. Tears are in his eyes as he scrambles backward, no amount of attacking hurts the angel above him and Cass doesn't own an angel blade. "Dean," he whimpers in a mess of pain and confusion, he doesn't understand what this other angel wants or who he means by Raphael. "Dean help me..."

"I'm already here baby," Dean hushed Cass, checking the injury left by the angel blade. Any contact Dean had seen made in the past usually insta-nuked the angel. Such a gash across Cass' chest without death was a miracle. Despite the good news, Cass was still a pained mess, and he looked absolutely terrified. Dean held Cass tightly, protectively.

"You sonofabitch," Dean spat at the feather-fluffing angel. "He's got nothing to do with this! Can't you angels tell what's what? This guy isn't in a vessel!" Dean glared, part of him hoped that this would put the angel off balance, or at least make him a little uncertain. But really, any angel hanging out with the Winchesters was suspicious.

_Outside_...

Sam fumbles in the trunk of the Impala, finding the jar of holy oil after a gruelling minute. _'Please still be alive in there.'_ He thinks as he darts back inside, splashing the fluid onto the suited man and throwing a lit match.

The angel burns up instantly but he leaves behind an unpleasant reminder; Castiel is fighting a war and has a price on his head.

**Author's Note:**

**Okay so again, thanks to everyone for the support :) Your reviews always make my day XD I noticed that there are even people reading the first PMA in order to get to this one! Exciting! **

**If you're wondering, yes we pulled this hunt out of our asses and yes it sucks so please don't take it too seriously XP **

**I feel an ending approaching, any hands up for a part 3? Let me know :3 Because there is an idea for one**

**[And again, apparently matsu doesn't like the length of this chapter even though you guys seem to enjoy it :/ I'm sorry Matsu but wth do you want me to do! There were't many good spots to cut it off! Someone send Touta Matsuda a message for me and tell her you agree with the length so I stop getting yelled at :(]**


	8. Chapter 8

Dean's mouth parted from Cass, a soft smile gracing his lips and lighting his eyes. "Cass, you know I love you right? I love you more than anything in this world, and that's why..." Dean lifted the box into Cass' sight and backed off his lap to the floor. Cass needed him, and it hurt Dean to know he couldn't have done this while Cass' mind was still in one piece. But Cass needed him more than ever, and there was no way Dean was leaving him now. Maybe it would bring something back into place.

Castiel had been so lost in the continued kisses and feel of Dean that he hadn't noticed Dean's hand and the little box he hid in it. When it came into view the angel knew exactly what it meant, his heart pounding rapidly against his eardrums as the realization of what was happening dawning on him.

"Cass, will you marry me? Please?"

Dean's nerves were still shot from the previous months and more so from the previous night. Having lost Castiel to who knows what and who knows why, only to get him back in a ghastly bloody mess with only shards of sanity left intact was a trying experience. Despite everything, Dean knew he needed Cass in whatever pieces he could get him. He needed that someone in his life who loved him the way Cass had.

In that moment, Castiel could have done a number of things. He could've re-explained to Dean that he wasn't the same Castiel, that Dean was making a mistake and proposing to the wrong angel. He could have said no and broken the man's dreams. He could have bolted from the room, leaving this insanity behind him. Part of him knew that he _should_ have done one of these things, that he shouldn't allow himself something so sweet because it wasn't his, this happiness didn't belong to him.

But instead, tears filled his eyes.

Dean wouldn't be able to take Cass saying no, and the immediate tears in Castiel's eyes did nothing to ease the nervous tightening of Dean's throat. '_Please, please stay with me_.'

Castiel quivered, he gave himself the luxury of enjoying this, of letting everything else go. Why should he have to fight off the apocalypse again, alone? Why did that weight have to fall on him? He deserved something simple, something pleasurable and peaceful. In that deciding moment he didn't take into effect the memories of Sam and Dean, both trying to run from that life and failing miserably, both believing they'd done enough and deserved more. He didn't think of these things, he didn't want to consider them.

Instead, tears fell down his cheeks. The world could wait for him, and if not then so be it. He'd been left out in the cold too long, without the love of family or someone who wanted nothing more than him. Someone who would say 'I love you', regardless of if they thought he was acting psychotically, regardless of whether or not he was himself. Dean had just proven he didn't truly believe Castiel was from another reality, but he backed him up and supported him without further question. Castiel should have turned away from all of this, from all of what he wanted and just said no.

But instead, Castiel slumped to the floor with Dean, his bottom lip quivering and the words he searched for barely coming to the tip of his tongue. He managed a snivelled breath, getting airflow back into his lungs and hopefully through his vocal chords again. He found he remembered how to move his head and began to nod in response to Dean's life changing question. "Yes," he stammers through light sobs, still nodding his head, "Of course I will."

With Cass in tears on the floor in front of him, Dean couldn't help but comfort him. He wasn't entirely sure what it was about a proposal that required comforting after, but he felt the sting of tears behind his own eyes. "Thank you," Dean murmured and the tears fell quickly. Dean was sure that it was relief, but some nagging thoughts persisted.

He isn't sure how he gets there, but Cass finds himself against Dean, his face nuzzled warmly into the man's chest. He's still sobbing, whether that's from guilt or happiness he doesn't know. "I can't believe you'd ever ask me that," he strains to speak, lost in the feeling that someone loves him to that extent. "I don't deserve this," Cass curls against Dean, feeling very at ease there, "Thank you, thank you Dean." His hand comes up and clutches the housecoat that's still draped over Dean's shoulders, his fingers clinging desperately to the cloth as if he let's go Dean will leave him.

Dean's breath caught in his throat and a sharp sting of pain shot through his chest. Whatever Castiel had endured in his months away had left him with a sense of worthlessness. "Cass, you deserve so much more than this. What has happened to you isn't fair, it never has been. You deserve the world and everything in it and if I could," Dean's voice cracked and he swallowed quickly to try and relieve the dryness in his mouth, "If I could," he whispered, "I would give you everything."

Cass' bottom lip hasn't stopped shaking, his large baby blues still watery. Why do Dean's words mean so much to him? They're empty promises, like everyone always makes, but for some reason when Dean says it... "I know you would," He tries a smile, feeling himself try and fit the right description of this reality's Castiel again. There's no way he can, he knows it, but he tries anyway. He wants desperately to be the one that Dean is in love with.

'_When did this turn into 'I want Dean to be in love with me'?'_ Castiel's mind races for a moment but he pushes the thought aside, somewhere he's always known that special bond would grow and fester.

Dean pulled Castiel close and into a tight hug. "I love you more than anything." Despite how relieved he is to have Cass with him, to hear him say yes, depression quickly sinks in. If Cass were his old self, he'd go off the walls with preparation plans. Everything from the type of flowers and the catering to the material of the suits and the entertainment to follow. Everything would have been perfect; Castiel wouldn't have stood for less. Somehow Dean knew that this would never happen, Cass wouldn't plan his perfect dream wedding. He may even act as a mere observer rather than a participant. But that would have to be alright, at least he was there, at least he would always be there.

"I love you too." Cass responds, his smile growing more sincere as he enjoys the warmth of Dean's embrace. _'I do. I love you Dean.'_ He thinks, realizing that he isn't spouting a lie to be this other Castiel, he truly has fallen for Dean. The insults shot his way or the sad and disappointed looks Dean would give him once in a while hurt, made him angry and want to act out. At the time he couldn't make sense of it; it made sense now.

He needs to put some effort into getting to know this other Castiel, to make Dean happy he has to be as close to his alternate self as possible. Cass stresses a little, not sure where to begin. What will every say or think when he's asking questions about himself? That can't matter, not when he needs the information.

"Hey, do you want to lie down?" Dean offered, his voice soft and concerned. "You don't seem well." Dean helped Cass back onto the bed, stealing both house coats and discarding them to the floor. Dean pulled the covers over them and slid close to Cass, placing an arm around him and hugging him tightly.

"I'm alright," Cass wipes his eyes to try to at least look more convincing. Dean's observation makes him realize he's tired; he remembers that he almost died just a day or so ago and his body is still incredibly weak. He isn't used to be human again, he needs sleep.

Cass snuggles close to Dean, enjoying the loving nature of the man's actions and words. He can't help but wonder what his Dean is up to now, have they even noticed he's missing? Cass frowns, not wanting to think about it any further, he's happy right where he is and currently would like it to stay that way.

* * *

><p>"Hey Balthazar, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," Gabriel trotted down the hall after his older band mate. "First, why'd we go home? I mean, I know Dean whisked Cas away, bringing him up to his room for a little fun, but we could've waited for them to come back down."<p>

Balthazar sighed heavily, "Look Gabriel, I'm simply not in the mood for this. Castiel is home safely –well, he's home anyway. He's shaken up and Dean wants to help him out. We'll get our chance yet." Balthazar furrowed his brow, "and you don't have to follow me. If you wanted to stay, you could've stayed."

The anger in Balthazar's voice startled Gabriel. It was subtle, but a thoroughly underlying emotion. He hadn't expected much out of Balthazar until after the second or third question, but this reaction only served to strengthen Gabriel's suspicions. "Chill, would you? I'm just saying that for someone who cares so damn much you sure high-tailed it out of there fast." Gabriel frowned, bordering on glaring. "And you were really shocked when you found out Sam got the call."

"So? Everyone was." Balthazar dismissed the second point easily.

"Yeah, but then they were excited. You just seemed shocked. Not mention Sam had to prompt you to heal Cas. You saw him destroyed on a bed, and someone had to _tell_ you to act. What the hell's the matter with you?"

Balthazar looked at Gabriel plaintively, "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, Gabe." His demeanour had changed, his shoulders were squared and remorse was lacking from his face.

"So I'm right..." Gabriel whispered, fear now setting in. Figuring it out didn't help him now, and the additional pieces started to fall into place. "You gave up looking for Cas..." Gabriel started backing up, putting some distance between him and Balthazar. "You... you put up some kind of wall in this Cas, I heard him say it. What are you trying to pull here?"

In the blink of an eye, Balthazar was standing in front of him. "I'm Cas' guardian. I'm known to everyone here as his protector, and the only other angel around. And you? A liar, a prankster, and you have a bad sense of humour. Who's going to believe you? You don't even have a clean accusation. I'm helping Cas by keeping his shattered grace at bay, to stop him from slipping into madness."

Gabriel started at the lack of personal space, and found his back against the wall. "No no! You called him crazy for that inter-world rift thing. You want them to think he's crazy... but he's not, is he?"

"Since when were you so clever? I wasn't counting on you growing a brain. No one will find you for days." Balthazar reached a hand out to Gabriel's forehead, and dropped him in two seconds. Lifting the body of his friend from the floor, Balthazar dragged him to the basement unseen and left him bound and gagged.

**Author's Note:**

**I broke up this chapter into 3 pieces for you matsu! Anyway to compensate for the tininess of the chapter I'll post them one per day :) Be sure to review each one now! Love all around, dear readers!**


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning Castiel woke first, as he slipped out of the bed he recalled Dean's anxious expression the last time. _'He's scared I'll leave. I should wake him.'_ Cass decides, a determined expression replacing the tired one. "Dean." He states simply, expecting this to work. No answer or stirring immediately tells him that Dean is indeed in a deep sleep. "Hm.." Cass grabs a pen and paper, scrawling a quick note he leaves it in the bed next to Dean, explaining he's gotten up and went downstairs. Cass nods, proud of his work. He pulls the housecoat loosely over his shoulders and ties it, barely covering everything it needs to.

After a quick scan of the rooms, Castiel finds a pile of people in the living room, his 'friends' from yesterday. They all stayed –well, most of them- probably to check up on him in the morning. _'They do care... I should apologize for how I acted.'_ He once again nods decisively, determined to fit in properly here. This other him not only has Dean who loves him unconditionally, but a bunch of friends too! Why wouldn't he want to stay here?

Of course, after finding them all asleep, Castiel realizes he's the only one awake at this hour. He finds a clock in the kitchen, it's 8 am, not that early. As the angel curiously ponders why they're all sleeping, the sound of a bell chimes brightly across the house. A doorbell, someone's there.

Castiel, knowing he's the only one awake, proceeds to answer it. "Hello?" he doesn't recognize the person standing there but he does recognize their expression; pure shock and joy.

"Oh my god! Castiel! You really are back!" The woman squeals, a man holding a rather large camera standing awkwardly behind her. They're TV people, but Castiel doesn't understand this.

"Uh, yes." Cass nods slowly, "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Oh, of course. I'm from the _ManyMoreMusic_ channel, we heard some rumours that you'd been spotted at home recently and..." The woman continued to blab on about how they knew he'd be at this address and her name, Becky, and a ton of other facts that Castiel didn't care too much to remember. "Can I ask you some questions?" Her excitement didn't die down in the least.

Cass scrunched up his face, glancing at the camera, "What sort of questions?"

"Where you've been, what we can expect from PMA now that you're back, stuff like that." Of course, Becky's gaze had shifted down to Castiel's clothing, or lack-there-of. The angel stood across from her in nothing but a thin, loose housecoat. And after all of his adventuring around the house this morning, it didn't cover everything.

"Alright..." Cass concedes, relaxing a little. He can answer simple questions, no problem. That seems to be something the other Castiel would do.

"Okay, where have you been for the last few months?"

Castiel has always had trouble with that 'truth telling' thing. As he struggles to think of a good lie, he notices several other people running up the block with cameras. _'Something else that commonly happens to the famous band me...'_ He decides, trying to ignore the attention. "Civil war in heaven," he spits out awkwardly, too distracted by all the people coming toward him to think of something decent. However his answer seems to fly with these people, getting a good laugh out of them.

"Of course the angel would be off fighting for heaven, why's there a war?" She's joking but Cass doesn't see it that way.

"Raphael wants to restart the apocalypse," he explains solemnly, feeling fairly at ease now. People in this other world understood his troubles, he didn't get that 'what the hell are you talking about' expression from them. "I, and several other angels, are fighting back to stop him. It isn't going well."

More laughter, as if he's funny and the idea amuses them. "Clever," Becky says.

"Oh I'm not joking," Cass reassures her, his serious expression starting to sink in to the different individuals around him.

Becky glances at her camera man then back at the nearly naked angel, "So, where have you really been? Your fans miss you."

Castiel's brow furrows frustratingly, "I just told you." Maybe they don't understand. "I'm joking, of course I'm joking." He mutters, wrapping his arms around himself comfortlessly. "I was uh..." he looks down at the ring on his finger, his heart skipping faster the longer he stares. "Planning a wedding." He lifts his hand to show off, a bright smile coming over his features.

That gets an intense reaction from the crowd around him. This lasts for several minutes, after which Becky tries to continue her interview; "And what of PMA?"

Cass shakes his head, "I'm sorry, what are you talking about? What's 'PMA'?"

"Your band, _Pleasure My Angel_." She persists.

Cass blushes at the name, "My band isn't pleasuring anyone's angels." He assures her, trying to stay in character without knowing what that character is.

Becky laughs again, this time trying to humour Cass. It's growing increasingly more obvious there is something wrong with the usually flamboyant lead singer. "What about the band? You think you could say everyone's names for me? For the show, I mean."

Cass bites his bottom lip, he doesn't know everyone in the band, there were a lot of people in the house yesterday. "Uhm..." he fidgets now, deciding that staying in character is harder than he thought, especially without researching the role first. "I'm sorry, I don't really know." He admits, feeling it's safe to do so. He's trying to be someone else, people would understand if he got some things wrong, wouldn't they?

_Upstairs;_

Dean feels an odd chill and awakens with a start. '_Why am I cold? Where's..._' Dean searches the bed with both eyes and hands, a frantic skip in his chest nearly getting the better of him. "No, no no!" Dean catches the paper and quickly reads it. Cass was down stairs, he didn't want Dean to worry. Dean hung his head, a little embarrassed at his own panic. It was only now sinking in just how much he'd suffered during Cass' absence. He'd worried so much about Cas, where he'd gone, if he was alright, that he'd outright neglected himself. Fear of abandonment ran rife through his system and he dressed faster than ever before bolting down the stairs.

It was at that moment that Castiel was hauled back inside, Sam stepping out in his stead, "Okay fun's over, get off my property." He demands angrily. Once he gets his way, Sam spins back into the house, "Cass what are you doing?" He refers to the coat, of course.

"I was just answering questions, that's like me isn't it?" Cass asks, hoping he's gotten something right.

"Sort of but normally you actually answer them," Sam answers without thinking or considering how Dean would feel about him yelling at the poor confused angel. "Sorry," Sam tries to retract his statement, "It's just that you're barely wearing anything Cass, and telling vultures like them things they don't need to know yet."

Cass pretends to shrug it off, "You're right, I shouldn't have tried." He narrows his eyes in confusion, "I just... I want to make Dean happy." He shows Sam the ring, "He asked me to marry him, can you believe it?"

Sam smiles at that, "Yeah Cass, I can believe it." He takes the outstretched hand, "Dean will feel happier if you're with him, but he wants to see you happy again." He leads Castiel to the living room where the others are slumbering, some of them awake.

Cass sits in one of the chairs, still fairly shameless about where his housecoat rests. "I don't know what everyone expects me to be like... can you help me?" He looks pleadingly up at the much taller male next to him.

Sam hides his cringe, Castiel doesn't know, doesn't remember any of it. He just has a vague idea of who these people are, or at least most of them; and even that's still pretty off center. "Yeah," Sam smiles at Cass, "We'll help you be like yourself."

Dean had stopped slightly out of sight, listening to the conversations. Sam was awake and making sense, and then there was Cass... '_He's... trying to make me happy. He wants to know who he's supposed to be but he really doesn't remember a thing._' Dean wipes a stray tear from his eye. It hurt to know that Cass was gone for good, his lovely energetic daring angel diminished to a very confused person. At least he still loved him, would try to be someone for Dean. It seemed to concern him greatly.

Dean appeared in the door way, "Hey Cass." Dean's face was drained of color, stress still wracking his system. Dean looked around at the room's occupants. "Where are Balthazar and Gabriel?" Dean looked to Sam, who Dean assumed would be the resident host with all the answers. It wasn't a fair assumption, but it was a natural one.

Cass' eyes snapped up at the sound of Dean's voice, _'How much did he hear?'_ He thinks as he feels a tightness in his chest. His plan to be the other Castiel and make Dean happy starts drifting away from him before he can even try his hardest.

Sam looks around the room, "Not sure really. They left some time last night I guess." He honestly didn't pay attention to the two of them; he was too preoccupied with thinking of ways to make it up to Bella for being so distant. He hadn't come up with a solution and had actually fallen asleep while contemplating, no closer to a solution now than last night.

Dean sat down beside Cass, wrapping a loving arm around him. "Don't worry so much about me. I need you to be ok, and that's it. And I mean happy, don't worry about changing anything unless you really want to. I love you, and I don't want to put you through anything you don't want for yourself." Dean leaned forward and kissed Cass gently on the lips. "Everything'll be ok, I swear it."

Castiel snuggles into the body pressed against his, a light blush colouring his cheeks. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, resting his head against Dean's, "I... I'm really trying. I want to be your Castiel." He squeezes his eyes shut, forcing images of his world, his brothers and sisters, and his Dean away from the surface of his mind. "I love you too; I've never known love before this. I want to... I want to do my best for you. Please," he looks up at Dean tentatively, "If I'm not doing something that I normally would be doing, please tell me."

Dean runs a soothing hand over Castiel's cheek, "I promise I'll tell you. And I want you to know that this means a lot to me, trying so hard like this." Dean hugged Cass tight, holding him close for what seems awkwardly long, though there shouldn't be such a label between them. "So, we can get you acquainted with everyone again. How about they tell you their favourite memory of you? Would that help?" Dean smiled reassuringly, Cass had accepted, and wanted to get better. Things were definitely looking up.

Cass blushes, feeling like he's been a big baby about a lot of this. He still isn't used to Dean treating him so well, being so comforting. "I'd like that, yes." He smiles genuinely, "I hope they don't find it odd." He mutters mostly to himself.

Sam's smiling at the scene in front of him when Chuck appeared in the corner of his eye.

Chuck hustled over to Sam to try and fill in the gaps, "I saw Gabriel follow Balthazar out yesterday, told Anna he'd check on him or something. Neither of them came back. They could just be at home, but I dunno. Gabriel seemed... pissed off maybe? I don't know, he was hard to read."

Sam frowned, glancing at the red-headed woman's figure on the floor next to Jo's and Bella's, "Wait, they left Anna here? That's not like them at all." He had a bad feeling all of a sudden. "Dean, I'm gonna head over there, okay? I just want to see if everything's okay." He pats Chuck's shoulder, "Thanks."

Castiel watches as Sam exits, feeling a little odd about it. He's not sure what's up but Sam seems to think something is; regardless Cass refocuses on Dean who's starting to wake the others.

"Hey," Dean yelled at the sleeping folks on the floor, "I thought you were all here to see Cass, what's going on?"

Bella sat up slowly, brushing her hair from her face. She'd been staying close to Jo and Anna, preferring the female company over males –particularly Sam Winchester. She'd been meaning to ask Jo to help her with ways to break up with Sam. It was hard to consider, she didn't really want to. But the way Sam had been treating her was completely unfair, and even cruel. If he couldn't keep his promises, if he was simply a liar with big talk, she'd have to let him go.

The thought plagued her, and she couldn't really bring herself to jump at Cass' feet. He was an amazing singer, and she'd had a super fangirl crush on him, but that was years ago. He was a friend, and he needed help –which he was getting. And Bella wasn't sure how to help. "Good morning Cass," she smiled at him, and briefly recalled being the one individual that Castiel hadn't recognized at all. "How are you feeling?"

Jo rose with Bella, droopy eyes gazing up at the couple; at least she hoped she could still call them that. Her fears were quickly pushed away as she deciphered the sight before her. "Ooh morning guys, I see some rekindling has occurred." She smiles brightly.

Cass smiles awkwardly at the girls, still trying. "Good morning, everything's going well today." He pauses and remembers the determined thought he'd had earlier when peering at the sleepers, "Bella," he caught her name yesterday, luckily. "I'm very sorry; I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Things are off with me but I am trying, please be patient with me."

Bella smiled lightly, surprised that Cass remembered. Of course Cass hadn't done any of this on purpose, why in the world would he? Bella wouldn't admit it now, but her theory had been that Cass simply ran away from Dean –too clingy and negligent all in one. Apparently she was very wrong.

Chuck smiled and sat on the floor in front of the couch, by Cass and Dean. "I heard you talking to the reporters, congratulations!"

"What are we congratulating?" Adam asked sleepily.

"Cass and I are getting married." Dean smiled proudly. He knew Cass was the right life choice, but the expression 'never been happier' was slightly blemished by Castiel's mental state. But Dean wouldn't lose him again.

The proud proclamations of their marriage made Cass' blush deepen. "Thank you, Chuck." He takes Dean's hand happily, revelling in the feeling. He wants to be here, he wants to live with Dean, to love with Dean. He shook his mind free of recurring thoughts once more; the image of Raphael standing over him fuzzing out to the background of more pleasant thoughts.

"Holy crap, does dad know?" Adam had been fairly certain that John didn't even know they were dating. Adam tried to look to Sam for verification, like he always did, but Sam wasn't there.

Jo took a moment to let the shock settle. "OMG! Congrats congrats!" She squealed, her shrieks only now waking Anna.

"What the fuck...?" she groaned, sitting up wearily.

"Dean proposed to Cas! Omigod omigod!" Jo bounced up and down repeatedly in her make-shift bed, "I'm so happy for you guys!"

Anna looked up at the couple but she knew Castiel was still damaged, or at least very absent. The man she knew would be bouncing like Jo, he wouldn't be able to just sit and smile about it like an old man, he'd have to move or he'd lose his mind. Anna knew Castiel, and this wasn't him. She glanced at Dean, her eyes saying he's made a big mistake. Cas was sick and they all knew it, why was everyone just trying to act like it was all okay and he'd get better?

She stood up and walked out of the room, to the door and out; she was going home. Cass watched her leave, his eyes growing sadder. Somehow he'd messed up, he quickly looked at Dean to confirm this; "Did I say something?" He whispered, concern lining his words.

"No Cass, you're absolutely perfect," Dean clenched his teeth, mind becoming preoccupied, "Just give me a minute, k?" Dean rose violently from the couch and booked it after Anna to the door, "Don't you think I see it too!" He yells at her, knowing just how broken Cass is. "How the hell can you call yourself a friend and walk away like that!" Hot tears rolled down Dean's cheeks as he shouted down the street. Part of him knew he couldn't blame her, knew how Cass should be in a moment like this. But that didn't give her the right to walk out on Castiel, not when a friend should be supportive and helping. Dean bitterly slammed the door.

Returning to the living room with the others, Dean dropped back down beside Cass on the couch, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "So," Dean tried to choose his next words tentatively, but he was never particularly good at that. "Cass is trying really hard to get himself back. It's only been two days, and personally I think his efforts this early on are more than commendable. Everyone here is willing to help, right?"

Jo nods enthusiastically, "Of course we're gonna help! Cass is a good friend," She winked at the angel who only smiled and nodded in return.

Bella wasn't sure if she dared not to, after the way Dean shouted at Anna. While they were all concerned for Cass, and evidently wanted to help, they were also mourning his condition. Apparently this was unacceptable to Dean, but it hurt even more to see Cass try that hard.


	10. Chapter 10

Sam's dressed and out the door not long after he said he'd go, arriving at the other house in no time. They're friends and ever since the sleepover no one knocks on the Winchester residency door, therefore Sam deems it fair to sneak into PMA's house. His mind runs through several things he might say to someone who catches him, though he's not too worried about that. Something had been bugging him since the other night as well; something that he thinks Gabriel has caught on to. Balthazar's acting strangely.

The taller Winchester places a hand on the doorknob, ready to enter the home, when his mind kicks it into a highly paranoid gear; he should check the windows first. Sam has no idea what he'll find inside, if he's right and something's happened with the other angel -the only being he knows of that's capable of something like this- then there would be trouble for him.

Sam listens to his anxiety-ridden thoughts, creeping around the house, peering into windows that he's tall enough to see into. After finding nothing, he sighs, relieved. His eyes open again, his gaze just so happens to be angled toward a basement window. _'The lights are off down there, like always... But... something's covering the windows.'_ His sinking feeling returns, he knows he has to go inside now, his first destination being the basement.

'_What do you think you're doing? What do you think you're going to find?'_ He mentally probes himself with questions, frustrated with his own mind. _'They're friends and there's barely any reason to be suspicious of anything. So what if Balthazar's the only other angel you know of? Any angel could have done that.'_ Sam finds himself running through all the conversations he's witnessed with this new Castiel, the entirely different personality was strange in itself. But how could he know the same people? How could he know them but know them as completely separate beings than they really were? And what a creative mind, to be able to think up so many stories like that. _'Unless they aren't just stories.'_

Sam makes it into the house easily, quiet as a mouse. The feeling of dread increases as he stares down at only Balthazar's shoes; where are Gabriel's? He knows the layout well enough; he finds the basement without fail. The door is locked, which is another oddity. Luckily for Sam, he paid attention during Dean's rebellious phase as teenager, learning how to lock pick at a young age.

The heavy door swung on its hinges, a low moan grinding out in protest. Sam inhaled, stale basement air reaching his lungs. His long legs made quick work of the obstacle, descending into the darkness below. "Gabriel?" he whispers, his feet treading lightly on the cement floor. The toe of his shoe brushes by something, something too similar to a body to be anything else.

"Mm!" was Gabriel's muffled reply.

"Gabriel!" Sam exclaims in a hushed voice, his hands finding the gag in his friend's mouth clumsily and remove it. "What happened?" Sam wastes no time in untying Gabriel, it's too dark to really know if it's him for sure but Sam's pretty confident that it is.

Gasping for air was priority number one, next was getting to Sam's question. "You've gotta believe me when I tell you this –Balthazar is fucking evil!" Gabriel struggled against the remainder of his bindings and gave Sam a nod to his wrists as plea for help. "He knocked me out, tied me up, and stored me down here –probably intended to be long term. Listen, he knows what's going on here, with Cass, with everything! If not knows, than is freaking responsible. We _let_ him tie up Cass' grace! The guy's practically human! And he's not lying –this is a Cass from another world."

Sam didn't know what to say to all that, "I thought something was off with him but... Responsible for it? Balthazar?" Sam remembers meeting the guy way back, it wasn't the most elegant of introductions but Balthazar never seemed evil. "But I don't get it, why would he do something like that to Cass? Why would he bring a different reality version of Cass here to do that to him? And if this is a different Cass, where's the one we know?" Sam's mind swarmed with questions though they all amounted to the same thing; he didn't get it.

"Sammy! That's a lot of questions, and I can only give you guesses. But I can tell you that Balthazar was surprised that Cass returned, so I don't think he meant to swap them... just to get rid of ours." Gabriel rubbed his freed wrists, hoping to massage away the stinging sensation. "Look, I can stop him, but I need some help."

Gabriel smirked, "Balthazar doesn't know, but he's not the only other angel on the block. I went AWOL upstairs centuries ago. Only problem is I safe-hid my grace so I wouldn't be detected. If I can get that back, I can put a stop to this."

"Gabriel... like the archangel?" Sam's jaw almost hits the floor, "You're an angel too! So, what, is Anna an angel? Or is she the odd man out?" He shook his head, it wasn't important. "Never mind, where's your grace? What can I do?" Sam had just stumbled into something big, something his brother had no clue about.

"Yes, the archangel," Gabriel admitted, if not a little bashfully. He really loved the party life, the human life. Nothing but tour buses, bars, women, and junk food. It had been a real long time since he'd gotten down to anything serious. "I don't have a freaking clue about Anna, if she did what I did I wouldn't know –that's why I did it."

"We need to get out of here first, tell the others." Sam took Gabriel's arm and started leading him to the exit, hoping like hell Balthazar wasn't lurking nearby.

"I don't know if that's the best idea," Gabriel briskly followed the larger man up the stairs. "If everyone knows, then Balthazar will know that we know, and then there's no element of surprise at all. I need to be ready for Balthazar the next time he decides to out me..." Gabriel realizes that there's more to it than that. When Sam says 'tell the others' he means Dean, the man twisted up over his losses and desperately trying to make things work. "Oh boy, you'd better move faster after this expose."

Sam grunted in response, "I know it's a bad move but... Dean needs to know, he has a right to know." He wasn't too sure if that was what he truly thought or if he was thinking of himself again. Regardless, if he were Dean he'd want to know. His brother was in a serious amount of pain, thinking that his lover had completely lost his mind. _'I'm not sure if he'll feel much better knowing that his Cass is still missing, but this is still something I have to do.'_

The two escapees passed Anna on her way back home, Sam wondered if they should warn her but she seemed to be in no mood to even stop to talk to them. "Anna," he started but she only raised a hand to him.

"Sam, I suggest you focus on Bella from now on because you're about to lose her completely." Anna snapped at him, angrily marching by and into the house.

Sam cringed and hung his head at that, though there was no time for moping about his idiotic decisions he couldn't help but stop his quick pace. "God I need help," he muttered, running across the street now, back to his home.

"She seems pissed," Gabriel commented nonchalantly. No point in telling Anna, she was looking for Balthazar's comfort, heading back to the house. No way she'd believe Gabriel.

"Dean!" Sam's voice broke the atmosphere in the living room into pieces, his muscled frame stalking into the room, "Castiel isn't lying and he's not crazy, this really is a Cass from a different dimension."

Dean's head snapped up from nuzzling Cass' neck, happily intertwined with his soon-to-be husband. "Sam?"

'_No! If he believes that he won't... he won't love me.'_ Castiel swallows a lump that formed in his throat, turning a worried gaze on Dean.

Dean wasn't sure what to think, he was defensive of Cass' fragile mind, didn't want Sam going around spouting shit like that, and anger bubbled up inside. "Sam..." the question turned to a warning, but Sam wouldn't let go.

Sam's expression showed no signs of screwing around; he knows Dean will believe him while wearing such a face. "This isn't your Cass, I don't know what happened exactly but this isn't him." As he spoke the words Sam even saw the physical differences, this Castiel was slightly bigger and looked tired, very very tired.

"Sam, you're nuts." Jo protested, not wanting the happy marriage moment to be ruined.

"I'm serious!" Sam shouted, pointing a finger at Cass for emphasis, "He's not the same guy! Gabriel, back me up here."

Castiel suddenly felt very uncomfortable, like he'd be rejected any second and sent back to where he should be; fighting heaven's war. _'Dean and Sam are alone out there, no one's protecting them from Raphael...'_

Dean stared hard into Sam's eyes, and Sam had reasons to be saying what he was. He was certain about this, certain that this wasn't Cass. Dean looked at Cass, the frightened being he was; desperately trying to make Dean happy. Was he just a fraud? He accepted Dean's proposal, wanted to marry him, and to an extent knew who he was. Was this imposter simply trying to take what belonged to Cass? Dean's face screwed up with puzzled thoughts as he tried to sift through all this.

Looking at Cass now, it seemed obvious. He looked afraid of being found out, like he knew it all along –and he did, he tried to tell them so. Dean had coerced him into being someone else, had begged him to 'remember' something that this Cass had never known. "Cass," Dean tried to make eye contact, "You really were telling the truth about all that..." Dean suddenly felt awful. He'd cheated on his boyfriend, he'd proposed to the wrong man, and he'd made a total stranger believe himself to be insane.

Castiel bites his bottom lip, a sting behind his eyes pains him as he nods at Dean, "Yes" is all he can say now, no point in pretending anymore.

"Will Cass ever forgive me?" Dean turned a bleary eyed question on whoever was willing to answer it.

Sam's expression softens and he nods, "Of course he will, Dean. Cass loves you just as much as you love him; would you forgive Cass if he did what you've done? Then there's your answer." He smiles reassuringly, knowing he's right.

Looking to the Castiel on the couch beside him, Dean couldn't help but feel attached –whoever this was, he still had Cass' name, had his face, and he was willing to break down everything he was simply to stay with Dean. Dean leaned forward and kissed Cass again, pulling him into a tight hug, "We'll figure this out, ok? I promise we'll figure it out."

Cass blushes feverishly, confusion suddenly wracking his mind. "But I..." he turned watery eyes on Dean, "But I'm not..." He sees that Dean still cares, his features unsure but empathetic. "I don't understand, you aren't angry? I let you propose to me, I let you..." His blush intensifies as he remembers Dean's mouth wrapping around him, the personal level they had connected on last night.

Sam shook his head, "No, Cass. You told us the truth right away, we didn't listen. This isn't your fault and no one's mad at you." He turned his attention back to Gabriel, his eyes telling more than he needed to say. _'We need to find your grace.'_ Sam motions for the archangel to follow him, walking back out of the room.

In a hushed whisper, he leans over Gabriel, "Okay, tell me what you need for this."

Gabriel stepped aside with Sam, "Alright, now you need to do this without Balthazar catching on, ok? If he shows up here, I'll... distract him. I can't be found by this guy... K, _we'll_ go and get my grace, and we'll leave Bella to distract him! You're still in her good books, right?" Gabriel looked at Sam hopefully, completely unaware of Sam's relational transgressions in the past few months.

Sam cringes visibly, glancing back at the other room, "Uh... not quite..." He pauses; this would be a great excuse to start talking to her again though. "I'll give it a shot." He nods determinedly, he figures he owes Cass this much.

"So I ditched heaven eons ago, and I'm done giving a shit about their problems. Mind you back then it was all pretty archaic, but I doubt they've changed much. If anything they've become manipulative, shady and underhanded. It freaks me out really. I'm rambling, aren't I?''

This gets a shrug out of the younger Winchester, he's curious to hear it so it doesn't sound like rambling to him. Then again it'd be better for the both if Gabriel moved it along a little bit.

"Ok, ok. Anyway, when I left, I didn't see much point in hiding my grace. Messing with people and doing whatever I wanted was just too fun. Can you imagine living through the dark ages without super abilities? That'd just been crazy! So I was living it up, back in L.A. when I noticed something... well, to me it was someone, come crashing through. It'd been _ages_ since I'd felt another angel around. Grace seemed damn near foreign to me." Gabriel sighed, as if part of his mind was stuck reminiscing.

_Blitzed and buzzed and surrounded by men and women alike, Gabriel stumbled along the night lit streets with his crew. It was a finely assembled bunch –all as careless and fucked up as the next, brought together about an hour ago in a dirty bar fight, the cause of which they couldn't even tell you. _

"_Hey Gabe!" The scantily clad woman on his right grabbed his arm and pointed up at the night sky. "It's a shooting star! It's beautiful! Make a wish!"_

_Gabriel doubted that there was any connection of these thoughts in that empty head of hers –but she didn't need a brain to be fun. Gabriel lowered his sunglasses –yes, sunglasses at night –and looked up to the sky, to the supposed 'shooting star.' _

"_Yeah babe, lessee... I wish you'd come home with me and do the dirty!" _

_Gabriel received a prompt shove in reply, "Oh stop!" _

_Gabriel's eyes remained fixated on the now faded streak across the sky, the path the 'star' had taken. '_That was no star...'_ Gabriel thought sceptically. _

_It was only a few days later that Gabriel received his second impression of cosmic entities in the city. Two angels touching ground in one week didn't bode well for an AWOL angel. Why now, Gabriel hadn't a clue, but he needed to ditch any unwanted attention –and fast. _

"I'm a trickster by nature," Gabriel explains, "Loki, Ansanzi, Puck, they're all me... or some parts of them are. So hiding my grace couldn't be simple, it had to be funny, or ironic. So I figured 'hey- how about a church?' You might not think that it's ironic for an angel to hide their grace in a church, but you've gotta remember, I ran away. I didn't have any faith in our... well, whatever the hell you wanna call it. So my grace is in the cross at an old catholic church back in L.A."

Gabriel smiled sheepishly –no, his grace couldn't be nearby and couldn't be conveniently picked up and put back. "And It kind of needs to be ritualistically unlocked... but we'll get to that later. You'll do anything to help your brother, right? So let's not worry about that."

"LA!" Sam hisses, "Your grace is..." he smacks his forehead, nothing's ever easy for a Winchester, ever.

Gabriel poked his head back into the living room, checking for a clear coast, "Alright, we've gotta get on a plane _now_." Gabriel quickly trotted to the door and checked the exit. The longer Balthazar was absent, the more ill at ease Gabriel became, _'Just what _is_ that guy up to?'_

"Yeah yeah," Sam looks back into the main room, then back to Gabriel. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>Dean looked over to the side room, wondering how Sam was making out with all of this. He seemed to be on to something, but exactly what that was Dean couldn't even guess. "So Cass, there's some dimension rift? And you were pulled into it? Any idea how to reopen it?"<p>

"What?" Adam scoffed, "And kill him the rest of the way? That's a great idea."

Dean wanted to tell Adam to shut up, wanted to snap back at his insolent half brother, but he had a really good point –Cass hardly survived the first round, and dragging his own Cass through that would definitely kill him. There had to be a second way to fix this. "Fine," was all Dean could say in response.

Cass shakes his head anyway, "Even if I wanted to tear it open, which is very unwise, I couldn't. I can't access my grace, Balthazar put up a wall." He folded his arms around himself at the memory of the back alleyways between dimensions, "The route I came through isn't the only way, there are easier paths to take though they aren't much smoother. However they are much less painful. I believe your Castiel could survive travel through it, assuming he hasn't been injured."

"By what?" Jo piped in, concerned but also quite curious to know more about the other world.

"Angels," Castiel informed her solemnly, "As I said, I was fighting a civil war in heaven. I hope nothing's happened in my absence but I can't be sure. Chances are high that he's been attacked already,"

"Wait wait," Jo waved her hands in front of her face, "Why are we assuming he's where you're supposed to be?"

"Because I'm where he's supposed to be," Castiel says matter-of-factly, "If someone tried to remove this Castiel from here, they would have to put him somewhere else. He must have ended up in my original reality because I was forced out of it, there can't be doubles of the same being on the same plane; of course the rules can be bent when dealing with time travel."

"So you were pushed out of your world because our Cass was put there?"

"Pretty much." Castiel concluded.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean paced around the charred corpse of the attack angel, spinning the angel blade in his hand. "Cass'll wake up, right?" Dean looked back to Sam, and then his eyes couldn't help but fall back to Cass' unconscious form. Dean had laid the wounded angel down carefully, wrapped in his leather jacket for added warmth and comfort. The gash across his chest thankfully hadn't killed him, but it had left him injured –both physically and apparently spiritually. Cass hadn't stirred since going under.

Sam stared drearily into the almost empty jar of holy oil, "I couldn't tell you, Dean. Most of the time angels die when hit with that blade like he just was, don't they? I think he's lucky to be breathing but there's no way to tell if it'll stay that way." Sam recalls Bobby telling him about the last time Cass had been stabbed, it wasn't anything fatal but he was down for the count, all but powerless.

"That sonofabitch," Dean cursed out loud, rage boiling under his skin. "If I _ever_ get my hands on that Raphael, I swear to _God_..." Dean was aware of the double irony; God didn't care, and even if he did get his hands on Raphael there was nothing he could do. It was just so frustrating to be so helpless.

Sam glanced t his brother, he'd never seen Dean so upset about someone not family, or at least not blood related. Dean's movements and even his tone had a hint of helplessness in them, like no matter what he did he couldn't save Castiel. It was true, it didn't matter what Dean did, Castiel was still unconscious and still slashed across the chest.

Dean heard the familiar fluttering of wings, and their side was all out of friendly angels. Dean backed against the wall, hiding the silvery blade of the felled angel –just in case. Sam spun on his heels, the jar up and at the ready in one hand while the other whipped out a match.

Balthazar appeared off center of the room and took a quick assessing glance of his surroundings. "Yes, this appears to be the correct location." His eyes fell to Cass on the floor, "Ah, there you are, my little dimension travelling friend."

"Balthazar!" The younger Winchester exclaimed, lowering his weaponry, finally someone with some answers!

"Can you help him?" It only made sense that Castiel's one ally in this war would show up and help him, Dean was grateful for the guest appearance.

"Help?" Balthazar scoffed, "My silly Dean, I'm here to finish what I started. Castiel has lost his goal, and lost his place. He's not supposed to dwell on earth with humans, and he simply refuses to return to heaven."

_Four months earlier..._

"_Castiel, this charade has gone on long enough. You've spent years with this pathetic human." Balthazar pried again, his third attempt at removing Castiel from Lawrence._

_Cass frowned and turned to face his old friend, "It isn't a charade, Balthazar. I love Dean, I'm going to spend eternity with him; we've already talked about this." Castiel's tone was stern, his eyes narrowed in Balthazar's direction._

"_He will die, Castiel. And there's nothing you can do about that. Save yourself the trouble, he's hardly worth it." Balthazar's brow furrowed. _

"_It doesn't matter if he'll die someday and it isn't any trouble. Dean's worth every second and I'm not going to leave him now, that's my decision." Castiel's expression was similar to Balthazar's now, starting to become annoyed with the other angel._

"_Look, Michael is dead. You've remembered who you are and who you were, and now you're free. You're no longer bound to obedience and servitude. We should return to heaven, we should have left years ago now." Trying to pry Cass away from Dean was like trying to kill an elephant with a feather. _

"_That's enough Balthazar!" Cass shouted, getting into the taller man's face, "I'm staying here and that's final, don't bring this up with me ever again, understand?" With that he walked away, not bothering to listen to the man's final retort. _

_Balthazar's face grew grim, "If you won't come willingly, I will force you." Centuries ago Balthazar promised Castiel's protection, and he would be safest in heaven. Demons roamed the Earth's surface, and some had plots to enslave angels –as is what nearly happened the first time. Heaven would be best, and once Castiel was returned there it would be nigh impossible to escape again, and Balthazar could finally have a break from his tiresome duties. _

_On the morning Dean Winchester came knocking on his door, pleading for his help in finding his precious Castiel, it was already too late. Balthazar wasn't entirely sure what went wrong with the ritual, but nothing of Castiel had remained when he finished, so it must have worked well enough..._

Sam's eyes widened, "He's the other dimension Balthazar," he muttered to himself, there was no way of knowing if Balthazar was friendly but the way he'd just spoken was enough of a clue.

Balthazar turned to Castiel, dropping to his side and placing a firm hand to his skull. Dean knew what would come next, a bright flash of light and another dead body. Dean bolted forward, angel blade in hand, and took a feral swing at Balthazar, "Get away from him!"

The blade dragged across Balthazar's back, bleeding out and releasing a bright flash of light. The man vanished into thin air before dropping to the ground.

"What the hell? Where'd he go?" Dean spun around, looking for any sign of the bleeding would-be murderer.

Sam flinched, his face matching Dean's in that moment; his eyes scanning the area frantically. Angel's were crafty, for all they knew Dean had missed and Balthazar was putting on an act, which meant they were in trouble.

Another smooth English voice rolled over the room, "I sent him back to where he came from."

Dean spun around, ready to attack again, Sam's reaction wasn't any different, his jar of oil up a third time.

"Whoa whoa! It's _me_, you know, the correct Balthazar for this dimension." Balthazar's arms were up in the air, knowing full well there would be no easy way to convince the Winchester's of his identity. "_Jesus_, show a little respect." Balthazar brushed some imaginary dust from his shoulders. "I damn near get dragged into a swirling backdoor of dimension travel only to find that _you two_ are at the source of it! Just how the hell do you boys manage that?"

"Trust me; we wouldn't be if we had a choice. Just what the hell is going on?" Dean had had about enough of this 'in the dark' crap –character duplicates in the same story is just unseemly.

"I just told you," Balthazar sighed heavily, "No wonder the world is constantly on the brink of destruction with you two at the helm of its salvation. I was minding my own business, fighting off Raphael's squadrons _alone_ and then I'm being dragged through dimensions! Luckily I've dabbled with this forbidden transportation before," Balthazar broke into a guilty mumble, "And I had a few of the vaults weapons," throat cleared, "Anyway, I managed to pull myself out and track the source. Apparently there was another me here, and I was defaultly being pushed to the next dimension over to compensate for the abnormality. Is that any clearer?"

The info dump was welcome, in Sam's opinion. It cleared up a lot of his questions, meaning he didn't have to ask any. "Much better, thanks." Sam wished it were relieving to hear the news, but the tidbit of info about being forced through a forbidden pathway didn't allow it. It meant that their Castiel, their friend, had been dragged through it. _'Judging by Balthazar's expression I'd say it isn't a good thing...'_ He thinks morbidly.

On the other hand, Dean scratched his head, but dropped the subject. "How about him?" Dean pointed to Cass, "Can you help?"

"Sure, if I send him back, Castiel should return home automatically. Then I can finally get some godforsaken back up in this war."

"Wait, before he goes I wanted to..."

"Say goodbye? How melodramatic."

"Shut up, we're waiting."

_About an hour later..._

Cass' eyes flutter open after a low groan rumbles in his throat; he feels a sting in his chest and reaches for it. The movement in his arm sends a sharp and startling shot of pain throughout him. "Ah!" he scrunches up a little though not like he did before. The pain isn't so bad now that he remembers it's there, "That was awful," he murmurs, his hand gingerly placed over the wound. It's then that he realizes he's resting on something.

"Hey Cass," Dean smiled, cradling Cass' head in his lap. "We're ready to send you home."

"Dean..." Cass whispers, tilting his chin up to gaze at the rugged man, "How?" He rolls his head to see Balthazar standing nearby but can tell the difference between this one and the pristine man he knows back home. "An angel, I take it." He smiles, his mind drifting back to the smiling face of his boyfriend, the warm embraces like they were meant to be together. "Thank you," he looks up at Dean again, his eyes sad but there was a look of relief as well, "For taking care of me, for loving me; even if it was just a few days."

Dean nods; glad he could help in any way. He paused, his mind slowly jogging to catch up. '_Did I ever say it?_' Dean's brow furrowed as he tried to recall. Sex, yes; desire, yes; wanting, yes; to all these things he'd admitted, but he couldn't recall those three words ever leaving his mouth. His actions showed it, like they always did, but now it was troubling him that Cass might be leaving soon.

Cass looks at Sam, "And thank you too, Sam. For your patience with all of this, take care of Dean for me please."

Sam smiles at that, the first time he's really heard it in earnest. "Of course, Cass."

Castiel sighs and rolls over, wincing at the pain in his chest. He kneels in front of Dean, his hands cupping the scruffy face delicately, "I love you, always will."

"I love you too,"

Cass leans in and presses his lips to Dean's, kissing him slow and deep. A rush of relief chased Cass' sweet kiss, washing over Dean. He kisses passionately, arms coming up around the smaller man to embrace him once more.

Cass leans back again and winks at the hunter, "Show your angel a good time, will you?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean tried to shrug off the wink. "You'll never know if I don't, but I will." He smiled, his typical half smile.

"Are we quite done?" Balthazar balked, knowing he wasn't really interrupting at this point. "There's no chance of either Castiel sustaining any harm in this. I, after all, have several heavenly 'weapons' to assist in this." Balthazar was endlessly proud of his possessions, and spared nothing in gloating. Looking now to Castiel, "If you're quite ready, I'll get you on your way."

Castiel nods slowly, his eyes not leaving Dean's, "I'm ready."

"This," Balthazar produced an old looking wheel, one that looked as though it may have belonged to a chariot wagon, "Is the wheel of Ezekiel. I carried the prophet from Earth to heaven –alive. It will allow us to travel through dimensions, with a little tweaking. Now, we'll be off."

Cass gives a final kiss and rushes to Balthazar's side, his hand placed once more over his wound. "Goodbye!" he waves with the free one before taking hold of the other angel's clothes, "I'll miss you!"

Sam lifts a hand and waves back, not nearly as enthusiastic as Cass, _'Even close to dead he's got more energy than me...'_

Raising the wheel above his head, the spokes slowly began to turn of their own accord, and soon became blurs as the wheel took on high velocities, raising both Balthazar and Castiel off the ground, and soon they were gone.

Dean looked over at Sam, "So I guess we wait until our Cass comes back..."

The younger Winchester nods "Shouldn't be long now."

_Elsewhere..._

Balthazar appeared in the room, shining blinding lights that he tried to keep in as desperately as the life blood that spilled out onto the carpet, "Anna..." he choked out her name, stumbling forward. "Anna, I need help..." Balthazar was unsure as to how he'd gotten back, but was grateful he wasn't dead. What _was_ Dean to Castiel that he appeared to defend him in every dimension? Their love boggled him, and he was fairly certain it always would.

Anna's head snapped up from her pouting position on the couch, having gone home earlier due to several emotional complications. "Balthazar!" She bolted from her seat and caught the injured angel, entirely unsure as to what she could do. "Balthazar what happened to you?" Tears lined her eyes as she placed her hand over the shining hole in her boyfriend's side.

She could only think of one person to call for help; she dialled the number and listened to it ring, "Gabriel pick up, please pick up..."

Gabriel gave Sam a sidelong glance, "Not a moment too soon, eh?" Flipping the cell phone open, Gabreil answers cooly, "'Sup?" His eyes darken quickly. "Balthazar's there with you?" Gabriel's eyes trained on Sam, as if the Winchester could hear the entire conversation, and not just half. "I'll be there right away."

Gabriel pocketed his phone, "Apparently Balthazar tried something. Someone managed to fight back, and injured him –really bad. Anna needs my help... So do I kill him?" Gabriel looks torn, despite the fact that Balthazar had tried to do away with him earlier, that he was up to no good, he never actually 'hurt' Gabriel, he simply knocked him unconscious and tied him up.

Sam looked genuinely surprised, his hand running through his hair repeatedly, awkwardly. "Balthazar's down?" He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, best just answer the question. "He's an angel, you're an angel. Didn't Cass say something about everyone being 'brothers and sisters'? On that note, I'd say don't kill him." While Balthazar had tried to kill Castiel, or at least remove somehow, he hadn't hurt anyone terribly, as far as Sam knew.

Gabriel looked at Sam, knowing that he was right. All angels were brothers, sisters –family. They shared a home, a father, and a tremendous responsibility. But Gabriel had disagreed with this, had shirked these oh-so important responsibilities in exchange for freedom. It wasn't the law of angels that prevented him from bringing harm to Balthazar now, far from it. Balthazar had been there for Castiel as long as Gabriel could remember. Balthazar had been a voice of calm and reason among the band; he spoke with Michael on their behalf, being better with words and more conniving. And even if Balthazar deserved a shit kicking, it would have to come from Castiel and not from himself.

"Yeah Sam, I know." Gabriel sighed. "I really didn't want to anyway; I just hope he's got a damn good reason for all this."

Either way, action was needed. Gabriel reached out and grabbed Sam's arm and flew them both back to Lawrence.

Anna hung up the phone and stared down at Balthazar's beaten form, concern wracking her mind, stopping her from reacting in a more intelligent way. "I wish I could do something…" She whispered.

The fluttering of wings made her look up, a small hope in her thought it would be Castiel, coming to save her boyfriend. She stared blankly at Gabriel, not sure what to make of the image before her.

Balthazar visibly paled at the sight of them. "How are you...?" He struggles to ask about Gabriel, about how he got free, about how he too is an angel.

"Buddy, there's a lot of things you don't know about me," Gabriel shrugs off the curiosity, going into few details –if any. "And for the shit you tried to pull, I should finish the job and put you down right now." Gabriel sighed, his rage dropping, Balthazar was a good friend, and wonderful mentor. He'd always meant so well for Cass, and he'd even taken out Michael. "I just want to know what happened to you. Man, this doesn't make any sense."

Blood dripped from Balthazar's mouth as he tried to open it to speak. Gabriel winced at his friend's condition, and folded in the face of better judgment. Reaching out to lay hands on Balthazar, Gabriel patched the man back together, sealing the gaping would shut.

Balthazar rolled his shoulders, feeling the gaping wound vanish. He eyes Gabriel momentarily, surprise and confusion swirling in his mind. When he'd met the man, he had thought little more of him than a drugged up party animal. In all honesty, Balthazar had tried to guide Cass away from friends such as Gabriel, but the two of them simply got along far too well. But now things were different, Gabriel had changed –had acquired angelic properties; and the name made sense; Gabriel, the archangel. He'd been there all along, and Balthazar hadn't a clue.

"Now explain yourself."

Anna cut in first, her relief obvious in her face, "Thank you, Gabriel! Thank you so much." Tears slipped down her cheeks as she pressed her face against Balthazar, nuzzling into him gratefully.

Gabriel faltered for a moment, not expecting his big confrontation to be cut so anticlimactically short. He glanced over at Sam, but quickly turned away –eye contact still wasn't an easy thing with Sam, not so soon.

Balthazar wrapped his arms around Anna, grateful for her unconditional affection. Focusing so hard on Castiel had taken away from things he'd already acquired. Castiel left heaven to find his father, a task he'd forgotten quickly upon arrival. This desire translated itself into a need for love and affection, to acquire a life of his own with another. Balthazar had achieved the same goals as Castiel without realizing what he'd done; he'd found a loving woman, a home, and friends. In this brief moment of epiphany Balthazar couldn't understand why he couldn't have left well enough alone.

Sam smiled, not noticing the glance from the archangel; he was glad to see that Gabriel had healed his brother though he was fairly nervous about it too. "Hey, explaining yourself is important but I think Cass deserves to hear it more than we do." He motioned toward the exit, his eyes trained on Balthazar.

Anna nuzzled Balthazar again, light sobs escaping her as she let her relief slide out, "Shh," Balthazar kissed Anna on the forehead, gently brushing her vibrant red locks aside, "I'm alright now. I'm sorry I scared you dear."

Balthazar looked to Gabriel, then to Sam, before rising from the floor. "You should hear this too, Anna." Balthazar said, somewhat dismally. He really didn't want to admit how little he'd appreciated her in his focus to leave earth and bring Castiel with him. Cass was her friend, and Balthazar her lover –how could he feel to free to ditch her like that?

She lifted her head to stare at him, the information she was gathering in that moment didn't make complete sense to her but she decided not to question it. She nodded her head, "Okay," was all she whispered, helping him to his feet.

Sam nodded solemnly and led the way out of the house and across the street.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean's reassuring strokes of Castiel's arm stopped abruptly when the room began to blow apart. A torrential wind ripped through the living room, tossing papers, books, cushions, and whatever else wasn't too heavy or fastened down around the room before everything finally settled. At the whirlwind's center were two very familiar individuals. "...Cass?" Dean eyed the slender man for a moment, and his heart jumped in his chest.

Dean jumped from his seat, "Oh god, Cass!" Running to Cass' side, Dean visibly paled at the sight of Castiel's bloody wound. Before Dean could proceed with the 'are you alright's and the 'what happened to you' and all those other questions, he had to address this one thing first: "I love you Cass, no matter what." He kissed him fervently, with everything he had.

Cass, his hand bloody from his injury, his body shaky from dimension travel, fell straight into Dean's arms, almost limp at first. He moaned into the kiss, a light blush on his cheeks returning some colour to his face. Cass broke the kiss and smiled at his boyfriend, tears forming in his eyes again. "I love you too, baby." He rests his head on Dean's chest, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Dean manages, tears of relief rolling down his cheeks. He caressed Castiel's hair, holding him close and treasuring his return. There was nothing he wanted more, and he would never allow himself to let go.

Castiel, remaining stiff on the couch where he had been sitting with Dean, suddenly felt a twang of pain in his chest. The other Cass was back, here to reclaim his happiness, his life. Castiel would have to go back and continue his fight; _'I have to,'_ he tells himself sternly. _'Dean would never give up like this, even if it meant he could be happy forever. I must go back.'_

Castiel stands and strides across the floor to the happy couple, he attempts to hide the sad expression he wears but it isn't easy. "I should get going," he says with a half smile, his gaze lingering on Cass.

Cass lets go of Dean and turns to face himself, their blue eyes meeting in a strange way; one wishing he had what this one has, the other promising he'll get it. "Thanks for taking care of Dean," Cass breaks the silence, "I hope everything goes well for you back home."

Castiel smiles sadly, twisting something on his finger anxiously; _'I will never again wear one of these...'_ He takes it off and holds his hand out to Cass, "I believe this belongs to you."

Cass stares at the small circular item, his heart skipping like a stone on water. "Is that..." he hesitantly takes it, peering at the inner engravings of the ring he reads them out loud; "_My beloved Castiel_..." He turns to look at Dean, tears having instantly formed and fallen down his dirty cheeks. He's at a loss for words, his mouth curled in as he bit his lip. "Is this...?"

Dean smiled warmly, "It is." He takes the ring from Cass, and takes Cass' left hand in his. "Castiel, I want you in my life always. Will you marry me?" Dean's smiling, poised to place the ring on Castiel's finger.

Cass covers his mouth with his right hand, his cheeks dampened by tears he couldn't control. The feel of the moment weighing on him, forcing a reaction out of him, forcing him to move. All the pent of feelings and emotions from the last few days and the momentum of all the events throttling into him at once. "Yes!" He shouted, his energy bursting out in one loud exclamation.

Dean's smile stretched ear to ear and he eagerly slipped the ring onto Cass finger, proof of his promise and commitment.

Castiel dropped to his knees with Dean, and threw his arms around his lover's shoulders. "Yes, yes, a million times yes!" He wept happily; he hadn't realized how much he wanted this until it finally came to him.

"Oh my god! I have to plan a wedding," he leaned back from Dean, his eyes wide with the sudden understanding of new information, "I don't know how to plan a wedding but I know what I want." His smile grew as he was clearly imagining it, it didn't take a genius to know that Castiel would want something big and extravagant.

"We need best men too! And really nice tuxedos, I'll wear the white one but I'm not wearing a dress." His waved a warning finger at Dean to emphasize his words. "And no bow ties because they remind me of clowns." This was the reaction everyone expected the first time.

Dean's heart-warmed smile quickly gave way to an incredulous smirk: this was it. This was what he knew was coming, the months of prep work, the overly excited rushing of too-extravagant plans that would undoubtedly fall apart somewhere along the way resulting in a catastrophic emotional breakdown very much akin to a woman's menstrual mood swing. Dean looked forward to every second of Castiel's upcoming emotional rollercoaster.

Castiel, the heavenly soldier, looks to Balthazar and gives a silent nod, he needs no further goodbyes, he'd rather not have them. Balthazar takes the saddened angel by the arm and leaves, no other words need to be spoken.

* * *

><p>Dean sat lazily on the edge of the lumpy motel bed. Not even 24 hours ago he made love to Castiel for the first time, and now he waits for Cass' return anxiously. He hasn't a clue what he'll say or how he'll react. Without Castiel's lead the first time, nothing would have happened. Dean would have laughed it off, joked about it, and avoided the subject altogether. He couldn't let that happen; he couldn't let himself avoid what he wanted out of fear of rejection –again.<p>

With a flutter of wings and the spinning of wheels, Balthazar landed himself and his captain in the motel room. "Well, that worked out better than I thought." Balthazar mused while inspecting Ezekiel's wheel. "I thought for sure we'd be torn to ribbons."

Castiel stepped down on the dirty motel floor, his blue eyes shifting up to see the strong, masculine form of his old friends. "Hello." He says meekly when his body seized at his old friend's words, "You what?" He asked with narrow eyes, his tone hinting at anger. "You mean you used a stolen weapon, which you aren't an expert at using, to drag me back to another dimension while my grace is locked away and mutilated?" He knew the answer of course, but it didn't stop him from asking it. "You could have killed us both!"

"Could have, but didn't."

Cass turned back to Dean, completely unsure of the reaction he's about to get.

Dean stood from the bed, "Cass..." he whispered, as though awestruck. Without allowing himself time to think it through or dismiss it, Dean forced his legs to respond and carry himself across the room. He pulled the awkward angel into his arms and kissed him long and hard. He wanted Cass to stay, wanted him to be safe and not have to fight alone. But most of all he wanted Cass for himself.

Castiel was started, to say the least. His eyes were wide with shock at first but he felt his body instantly relax into the hunter's strong hold. Comfort washed over him as his eyes closed, returning the kiss and wrapping his arms up and around Dean's shoulders. All fear of never being loved again vanished in a single moment, his heart beating erratically against his chest. It was pounding so hard he thought for sure Dean would hear it, possibly even feel it.

Breaking away, Dean smiled sadly, "I missed you."

Blue eyes open again, staring up at the man he's grown to care for over the past few years and, in the last day, love as well. He smiled as well though his wasn't so dismal. "I missed you more."

Dean smirked, "Doubtful."

He leaned in and continued the kiss, his tongue pushing past Dean's external barriers and exploring the warm, moist spaces normally hidden from him. Cass moans into the kiss, thankful that he can enjoy a moment like this, to taste Dean, his Dean. Thankful that he has a chance to hold this man in his arms, to be able to protect him from the world that's ready to crumble around them. Castiel is happy where he is; he was happy where he was. He knows that at the end of the day, if he's with Dean, he'll be happy.

Cass remembers the ring, the rush of emotional that came with it, and knows that he wants to get there someday. "I love you, Dean." The first time he's said to the right man and he suddenly feels anxious, his sincerity frightens him. What if it's wrong to say that so soon? He can't bear the thought of being laughed at after laying his heart out before Dean like he's just done. Cass feels the anxious energy as it rattles into his limbs and out of his mouth, "I really want…" His hands, sweating and shaky, gripped what they could of Dean's clothing, "I really want you, Dean… Make love to me?"

Sam sputters out the coffee he was absently drinking. The other Castiel was open, spontaneous and was fairly sexed-up. The awkward, nerdy angel they knew, had known for a few years now, was definitely not someone who'd ever ask that. Obviously the other dimension was more fun than this one. Then again, Sam was pretty sure most realities were more fun.

Dean's jaw hit the floor. '_Did he just say what I think he said?_' Dean felt a fluttering in his chest, his heart skipping a beat. "I love you too Cass," and Dean had to fight to keep the tears from his eyes. "I think I've... loved you for a long time, and I want you too."

Sam threw his hands into the air, "I'm out." He knows his cue well enough, motioning for Balthazar to follow him. He leans toward the angel conspicuously, "I noticed Cass is kinda a little worse for wear, plus he mentioned a mutilated grace... Think you could fix him up for us?"

Cass kisses Dean again, pressing his body flush against Dean's. He moves his hips, grinding up against Dean feverishly, wanting the other man more than he has words to describe.

Sam closes the door and sighs, "Just another day."

Balthazar laughed, "This is just another day for you?" He thinks about the dimension travel he himself has endured, a duplicate of himself, a missing Castiel and a duplicate of him aswell... "Yeah, me too."

Sam smirked but said nothing else, aside from Dean and Castiel being butt-buddies now, nothing was really changing.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Author's Note<span>:**

**Sorry friends, shorty today :) Last chapter is coming up! Stay tuned :D**


	13. Chapter 13

"Heeey!" Gabriel's cheery voice flooded the room upon an uninvited entry, "You're back!" Rushing forward he hugged Castiel tightly, grateful to have his friend alive, happy, and in one piece. "Congratulations on the marriage, you deserve it." Gabriel smiled, patting his friend on the back. "But before you get carried away with all that, we've brought someone who you have some things to sort through."

Castiel smiled, his arms around Gabriel's familiar form, "Thanks a lot, Gabe." He leans back and looks for this someone; part of him already knows what it's about.

Balthazar walked into the room, head held much lower than usual. He wasn't sure who in the room already knew, or even how much Castiel himself had figured out with the assistance of angel-killing alternate Winchester brothers. "Hello Castiel," he addressed his friend with the utmost of shamed respect. "I suppose you have some... questions, for me, regarding my behaviour and your unplanned trip to another world –How was that, by the way?"

Cass smiles warmly at his old friend, ignoring the harsh tugging in his chest, not to mention the awful sting left by the blade. "Balthazar, I have a feeling this has something to do with our little... disagreement a while back." He steps closer, not losing eye contact unless the other angel looks away, "The trip was alright; I met Dean and Sam who were pretty cold individuals, I think I managed to warm them a little. I was lonely for the majority of it and at the end I was almost killed by an angel blade. Other than that it was a good time."

His expression is almost unreadable as these thoughts swarm in his head, his gut telling him what Balthazar is about to say yet he refuses to believe it.

"I suppose this is my big confession scene, eh? Where I piece it all together for you guys and it all makes perfect sense? I'm afraid it's not all that easy. When I came down to Earth, after killing the guard at the gate, it was to save Castiel from enslavement and bring him home. When I found Castiel he'd lost many memories of his home and his nature, what his goal was. But as you all know, Castiel is a strong willed man, and no matter who or what he was; he knows what he wants now and for his future.

"Upon finding him, the only thing he wanted was life, freedom, and most importantly: a loving partner. He found his freedom through singing and dancing; he'd party and hit up the bar nightly. Despite his servitude to Michael, the binding was never exercised –it seemed almost theoretical. That is, until you showed up." Balthazar shot a glance toward Dean.

"Castiel found everything he needed in you. All the while, the only thing I truly sought was an opportunity to free him, where he'd _want_ to fight for his own freedom and where I'd have a reason to turn against Michael. When this finally came about, and Castiel was free and reminded of his angelic heritage, he didn't want to leave. I tried on numerous occasions to pry him away from his nest in the human realm and bring him home. I'd promised to keep him safe, and heaven is the best place for him. And there's someone there, waiting for him to come back."

Gabriel's eyebrows rose in curiosity, unaware of this other side of the story. He couldn't look anywhere for answer but to Balthazar himself. Whoever this was, Castiel wouldn't remember, and no one else would know.

Castiel was quiet through most of the explanation; the realization of what Balthazar had done silencing him. He trusted Balthazar, more than most. It was hard for him to hear anything the man was saying but he knew he had to, "What do you mean..." he whispered quietly, trying his hardest to remember what could possibly be waiting for him.

"I'm not buying it," Dean intervened, "If all your intentions were well and good, then how would almost killing him get him to heaven? He's an angel, not a person. And I'm pretty sure he doesn't go back to heaven if you kill him." His words were measured, but his tone was not. As far as Dean was concerned, Balthazar was out to take Cass from him, ruin both their lives, and potentially kill his (now) fiancé.

Balthazar shook his head quickly, "No, Castiel's not an angel –not really."

Dean frowned, "'The hell does that mean?"

"I'm with Dean on that one," Cass' eyes shot up again, anger swirling with the icy blue, "I remembered what I am three years ago, why I left and who you are. Where do you get off saying I'm not an angel?" Castiel refused to believe, once again, that he didn't know something about himself. He paused for a moment and shook his head, he'd been fairly certain he knew what he was last time and he'd been wrong. This time may not be different, though he doubted Balthazar's words he had to admit at least that much, "And... if I'm not, then what am I?"

"My dear boy," Balthazar sighed, emotions mixing in a turmoil the likes of which he'd never experienced, "You are my best guarded secret. You are not entirely an angel, you are a half breed." Balthazar took a glance around the room, taking in the curious expressions, the disbelieving ones, and he was pretty certain that Chuck just didn't understand anything.

Cass' face twisted in confusion, "A ... half breed?" He didn't know what to think, let alone say.

"The technical terminology is 'nephelim.' In the books of the Bible, the missing pages between Genesis and Numbers, there is mention of Nephelim walking the earth, children of angel and man. Angels had taken human wives, and these wives bore them children. When the flood came, the nephelim were wiped out –those that were left on earth. You survived the floor, my dear Castiel, and your human mother's soul resides in heaven. She begged me to watch out for you, and I wanted nothing more than to bring you home."

Castiel stumbled backward again, bumping into Dean, finding his comfort there before speaking again, "My mother? I have a mother?" he shakes his head, trying to remember everything but has more trouble than he wants to admit, "But I..." He didn't know where he was going with this; his mind was too exhausted from the day's events already to really understand what Balthazar was saying.

Gabriel took a moment to digest this revelation, "Whoa, hey now, that makes a lot of sense. That demon, the one that wanted Michael to drain the grace from Castiel? He must've known. You can't actually kill the grace of an angel without killing the angel, but for nephelim it's different. That actually would have worked."

"Exactly," Balthazar agreed, both with Michael's goal and their level of effectiveness should they have come to fruition. "Nephelim come in many different shapes and forms. Some were giants among men, some were deformed; but some took the image of an angel perfectly and could fit in among their ranks." Balthazar looked to Castiel, "That would be you. I have no doubt that you have certain... DNA abnormalities, but there's no way of knowing what those might be."

"Wait!" Dean shouted, "So why kill him?"

"Are you daft? Whoever said I was going to kill him? I'm not the one who injured him; some other angel did that, someone after the other Cass. The spell I cast was supposed to send Castiel to heaven, but apparently it hadn't worked. I thought it worked, so I quit looking for him." And no one present was any the wiser.

"Okay, okay." Castiel raised his hands; he'd had enough of this. "I'm a nephelim or whatever, right? I have a dead mother in heaven waiting for me to come home, or at least hoping I'm safe. I am safe and I'm living a happy life here, she's probably very pleased up there, despite my not remembering her so well. Michael and the demon from three years ago were after my grace but that's long over, it doesn't matter anymore. Balthazar tried to send me home, it failed and now somehow he's smartened up. Everything's good, isn't it?"

Sam lifted his hand to draw some attention his way, "Yeah except Balthazar was almost dead when Anna called Gabriel so I'd like to know how that happened and why."

Everyone who wasn't Gabriel, Sam, and Anna didn't know that part. Cass looked sceptically at Balthazar, this time he flew across the room and pinned the man to the floor, despite his injury Castiel was still pretty strong when pissed off. Cass' eyes stared deep into Balthazar's, practically daring him to lie again. "I know what you did, Balthazar. Whatever I am, whatever reason you had for sending me away and trying to kill me after..." He sighs and lightens the pressure he's putting on the other angel, "I'm hurt that you'd try. Please, just... tell me the truth, tell me you're sorry, and we can go back to how we were; happy." He gazes pleadingly at Balthazar, tears forming at the corners of his eyes again.

"If you would stop being so emotional," Balthazar struggled out under Castiel's slender frame, "You'd know that I wasn't going to kill you. I had my hands on you, and almost every action an angel takes brings some light into it. Your second boyfriend got freaked and tried to kill me."

Dean looked at Cass, "Second boyfriend?" His voice was masked, and whether he was upset or not was impossible to tell. In reality he was relieved: proposing to the wrong Castiel, after telling him he loved him and having sex with him in his own Cass' bed... Dean hadn't a clue how he'd start to explain that, but from what Balthazar had just said, Castiel had done much the same thing with the otherworld Dean –he just hadn't treated him like a mental case in the process.

Cass looked a little sheepish, not only assuming that Balthazar was out to get him but also forgetting about that second detail. He glanced at Dean, entirely unable to figure out what his fiancé was thinking. _'I'll explain later...'_ he decides, turning his attention back to Balthazar.

"I had said that you lost your goal and lost your way and that I'd force you, so I tried to force you. 'Finish what I started' was get you back to heaven."

"Yeah," Gabriel interjected, "By killing him. You knew that he was half human, and that half of his grace was his soul. If he were dead, you could bring him to heaven without him ever leaving it again."

Balthazar's eyes refused contact with Castiel's with this new addition of information "Well, maybe. I'm not entirely sure what I was thinking anymore. It's all quite frustrating."

Cass sighed heavily, standing up he looked down at his finger. "Frustrating is an understatement," he muttered. It seemed no one would be satisfied until Balthazar was punished in some way, Castiel had a similar gut feeling but he didn't want to do anything extreme. Balthazar was an old friend, a good one at that, so after attempted murder was his punishment to be murdered himself? It didn't make sense, it wasn't fair.

Castiel looked down at Balthazar again, "I'm going to punish you for this," he shifts his stance as his voice rumbles in his throat, "And what I say goes, am I clear?" he looks from the angel at his feet to the others in the room.

In one swift movement Castiel punches Balthazar square in the face, throttling him to the floor. Cass exhales slowly then unclenches his hand, sticking it out toward the felled angel, "There, we're even." He smiles, "Now get the hell up! I have planning and celebrating to do!"

Everything looked like it was going to be okay, everyone was forgiving and forgetting except one thing was bothering Chuck. In the commotion of planning, he walked up to Sam gingerly and stood next to him for a moment silence. Finally he spoke up after several minutes, "So uh, Sam?"

Sam glanced at him, "Yeah?"

"How did you get Gabriel all... angeled-up so fast?"

Sam froze his mind almost going blank, or at least he wished it would. Memories of finding Gabriel's grace flooding back.

"_Okay we're here... now what?" Sam had asked, leaning over the space in the church Gabriel had stashed his grace. _

"_Well... You're not gonna like it." Gabriel strode forward, a sucker jammed in his mouth anxiously. _

"_Just spit it out." Sam grumbled, annoyed._

"_What, no way! I like this flavour."_

"_Not the candy, how do we get it out?" Sam was nervous; he wanted to get back to Dean as quick as possible. There was no way to know when Balthazar would show up._

"_Okay the rules change depending on the year, planet alignment, blah blah blah. Point is I ditched my goods at a bad time."_

"_Of course you did..." Sam groaned, running his hand through his hair._

"_All funnies aside, I have to get it on with a man over the spot where I tossed it." Gabriel's eyes shifted to avoid Sam's overly exaggerated expression._

"_You have to... what!"_

"_We," Gabriel pointed at himself then motioned toward Sam, "Have to do it."_

"_No way."_

"_It's why I brought you with-"_

"_That makes it even more uncomfortable."_

"_Just... get over here and we can get this over with."_

"_No way."_

Standing there next to Chuck, Sam shook his head, "I'd rather not talk about it."

* * *

><p><em>During the celebrations...<em>

Sam made his awkward way to Bella's side. His mind raced with things to say, with the possibilities of what she might say, and the things he should have said a long time back. "Bella," His voice sounded distant to him, like it was rebelling against his head and following what his heart was screaming instead. He sounded tired, scared, and most of all apologetic. "Bella I'm so sorry." He pulled her into his arms, not waiting for a response, not waiting for her self-defensive reactions.

Bella tried to pull away, to reel from Sam's touch, but he was too strong to do any of the above. If he didn't want her to move, than she wasn't moving –end of story. "Sam," Bella's tone was warning and uneasy. She wasn't sure what she wanted from him. They'd spent _years_ together, just as Castiel and Dean had. Everything was so perfect –Sam was strong but caring, he understood her grievances and her maladjustments and truly worried for her, and had helped her so much.

But when Cass disappeared, everything came crashing down. Bella had tried to help find the missing angel, just as the others had tried. She understood that Sam's brother was grieving, and he was being supportive... but not for months on end. Not after everyone had given up, after Dean had already left town. There was no good reason for Sam to never call her back, to never have time to see her. And now here he was, apologizing, and Bella couldn't find the anger and hurt to truly push him away.

"Let go," was all she could say, shaking and scared. "I don't even know you anymore, just leave me alone." She wanted him to stay, and all this time all she was waiting for was him to come back, for him to apologize.

"I've been terrible to you and I have no excuse for that," he remembers the promises he made and suddenly feels much worse. "I wanted to help Dean and in the process pushed you away, far away." He backed off a little though still keeping her within reach, "Can you ever forgive me?" Sam knew he'd been an idiot and though he wanted nothing less, he'd understand if she hated him after all of this.

Bella looked up at Sam, deep into those puppy dog eyes. "Sam, I love you more than anything. I just never expected you to... to hurt me like this. I can forgive you, but it will take longer to trust you."

Sam bites his lip and nods sadly, "I love you too," he leans down and kisses her gently, "I promise I'll make it up to you, thank you so much." He hugs her again with that same familiar warmth he'd shown her the first time, one hand around her back and the other holding the back of her head to his chest. He couldn't be happier that she'd let him back in, that she forgave him. Hopefully soon he'd get to the same point that Cass and Dean were at, but that would have to wait.

* * *

><p>A spiced up version of 'Here Comes the Bride' plays and echoes throughout the building, Castiel struts down the aisle in a beautiful and impossibly white suit. Icy blue eyes fixated on his husband, dashing and handsome in his contrasting black. Flower petals rained on Castiel from above, a little trick he'd set up with some angelic assistance. The floor beneath his feet was marble, laid out from the entrance to the altar, just for him. The building was custom made for this day, enormous, carved and engraved specially for Castiel and Dean Winchester.<p>

The crowd in the building was immense, Cass wanted to be the center of attention and by inviting his fans he was exactly that. There were rows in the front for special family and friends, cameras on all sides filming and flashing. Today was their day, and as his hardened soled shoes clacked across the beautifully styled floor to his future, Castiel didn't care who else was in the room.

It was him and Dean; the world didn't matter anymore, not today.

Cass reached Dean's side, a light flush of pink on his cheeks. He leaned over to whisper, a smile unable to leave his lips, "After all of this, we're moving and getting a bigger house, just saying." With a wink he leaned back again, looking up at the Justice of the Peace they had to hire to do this officially.

* * *

><p><em>After the wedding day<em>

Castiel smiled at the house he'd erected from scratch, not that he did any real work but it was still nice to see something you imagined come into reality. It was a mansion, too many rooms for Castiel to really consider counting, endless entertainment for a man who gets bored easily, but most of all it was spacious. Castiel made this place for everyone to live; Dean and himself, Sam and Bella, Anna and Balthazar, Gabriel and Jo, and of course Chuck and Adam.

This place had it all and it was only a few miles outside of Lawrence, the small town they were all used to. With the riches that PMA received, no one really needed to have a job but of course that didn't stop them from actually getting one, Cass knows it can be boring living in the same house with nothing to do.

There were several cars in the attached garage, including Dean's beloved Impala. Not everyone was an angel and they all needed to get to town somehow.

Castiel looked at the crew that was ready to move in, "Welcome home."

**Author's Note:**

**Alright it's done :D Thank you, everyone! I appreciate the reviews, though I'm really glad you all came back to read part 2! Let's see who reads these author's notes; **

**Part 3 is being written currently! After I'm sure that everyone's done with this one, all reviews have been made and what not, I'll put up PMA3. To warn you, there will be a bit of AU-ness going on and some other things not everyone likes to read so I'd appreciate it if you read it, though I don't suspect everyone'll be overjoyed with it :) That being said, keep your eyes open for PMA3: With Arms Wide Open (Think the Creed song)**

****And by the way, I'm sorry that it feels so rushed, we ran out of ideas lol Part 3 will be better, I'm sure!****


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